After the Fall
by Eve215
Summary: A Ryan/Taylor story about the earthquake in S4 and it's aftermath. Taylor doesn't make it out as lucky this time. RT. Rated T
1. The Earthquake

**After the Fall**

A/N: I read a FF once that said there aren't nearly enough Ryan/Taylor FF out there, and I totally agree. So, here is another one. The beginning of this story is like the S4 episode with the earthquake. Please let me know what you like, don't like, etc.

Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters, and there is no money to be made by me.

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**Chapter 1: The Earthquake**

"I love you. And I don't want to lose you."

Taylor couldn't believe what she was hearing. Ryan-- Ryan flipping Atwood- had actually said it, and meant it. She wasn't drunk, and she wasn't conning him with paid homosexuals. He really loved her. He had admitted as much.

She couldn't wrap her mind around it. Somebody loved her-- Taylor Townsend-- and it wasn't a mistake. Or maybe it was, but she wasn't going to think about that now. She didn't want to kill her high.

Earlier that night, she had her reservations, well more than reservations actually. When she had opened the birthday gift from Ryan and it was a dictionary- _a dictionary_- her heart broke into a million pieces. Then after their talk, she decided, ok, maybe he _did _love her, but not enough to go to college with her. To possibly see a future with her.

It was devastating.

So it had been "Happy freaking birthday to her". She wished that she had just stayed home with Sixteen Candles and the Psychic Hot-line like every other year. At least the Hot-line didn't break her heart, well there was that one time, but-- anyway. Maybe she should have called the Hot-line _before_ she went to her party, saved herself the grief and public humiliation.

But now, not two hours later, he was in her room, sitting on her bed, telling her again that he loved her. Her mind told her to be cautious because this could, and probably would, end badly. But her heart wouldn't let her. She was Taylor after all, and she had already planned a future with Ryan in her head despite her best efforts to control herself. She knew Ryan, and she didn't want to scare him off.

So she sat there, smiling a smile that she knew was big and goofy, not knowing what to say. When she told him as much he replied, "That's a first," with a hugely handsome grin on his serene face. He looked happy, and as unfathomable as it was, happy to be with _her_. It was almost too much for her to take in.

Taylor's mind continued racing, so she allowed her body to take over. If her motor skills weren't going to cooperate then she would have to rely on physical ones. She felt herself lean over and begin kissing him. The touch of his warm lips against hers caused her mind to calm, but her heart to speed up. All of the doubts began to slip away as she only concentrated on feeling.

Her body began to warm as her lips grew hungrier, more urgent for his. Her ears fell deaf as all she could hear was the pounding of her own heart-- and possibly even Ryan's.

Sure, she had been kissed many times... had even been married once, but she had never been kissed by anyone who cared for her before. She had always heard it was like feeling the Earth move, and now, in her one and only experience, she'd have to agree.

It didn't hit her right away what was happening-- that the ground literally _was_ shaking.

It was an earthquake.

She backed away from his kiss and instantly his eyes met hers with the same wild bewilderment. Then she watched as what was happening hit him at the same time as it hit her.

"Get down." Ryan said calmly, without yelling like Taylor thought she would have done. His tone might have been calm, but she could feel his pulse through the death grip he had on her wrist. He was out-right scared.

The room began shaking more and more violently as the seconds stretched on.

Ryan pulled her onto the floor and covered her with his body. She found herself pinned stomach down, unable to see as glass broke and the world fell around her.

She didn't want to be a coward and panic, but she, in fact, wanted to. She'd been in earthquakes before, but for some reason, maybe because Ryan was with her, it terrified her even more. She never had to worry about anyone else getting hurt. Not even her mother, who was such a bitch - Taylor knew she would never die.

"Ryan." The word seeped out in a whisper before she knew it was coming.

"Shhh. Shhh. Taylor. It's gonna be ok." he had his lips to her ear, speaking as soothingly as he could. Taylor didn't buy it, but she wanted too. She knew he was as freaked as her.

"It's almost over. Almost over. Hang on." he repeated in a whisper to her ear as he held her even more tightly. Her mind knew it had probably only been minutes, but it felt like hours. Not able to take any more, she squeezed her eyes shut.

She felt Ryan lift off of her slightly and for a moment she thought it was over. She thought better, when he suddenly slammed himself back down to cover her and heard him yell, "NO!"

She didn't have time to wonder what was coming. She just shut her eyes even tighter, preparing herself for impact. Before she could put her arms up to help Ryan protect her head, she felt an ungodly pain searing through her.

And then her world stayed black.

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It took him a few moments to realize that the shaking had stopped. The world was eerily quiet, and a few heartbeats later, the sirens started. He tried to move, but soon remembered that a very tall and very glass curio cabinet had fallen on his back. He struggled to lift it, but it was too heavy for him to budge. He was pinned between it and...

_Taylor_

"Taylor?" He asked while easing up as much as he could which was maybe 1/2 inch. "Can you hear me?" his pulse began to speed up again, and he didn't know if his heart could take any more. "Taylor?" he called to her again, not wanting to believe that she wasn't moving. She was as still as a corpse... as still as Marissa had been.

Ryan ordered that comparison out of his head and focused on what needed to be done to help her.

"Wake up, Taylor." he shifted his weight to one hand and used the other to shake her gently.

Nothing.

From the moonlight coming from her window, he could see something glistening in her hair. His stomach lurched as he forced himself to touch it. As he felt the warm, sticky substance he found himself starting to panic.

Blood.

He figured that he hadn't covered her enough after all and something had fallen on her. He hadn't protected her, but he sure as Hell wasn't going to lose her either. He didn't stop to say anything else to her. He figured it would be a waste of time since she was unconscious. He needed to get her out and get her help… now.

With a new surge of adrenalin, he pushed up with his shoulder causing the curio cabinet to move and an extremely sharp pain in his back nearly took his breath away. He had been so worried about Taylor that he hadn't even taken a moment to survey any potential injury to himself. The pain didn't subside so he assumed that it was bad, probably a cut, but he didn't have a free hand to check.

As the furniture began to move, it gave him just a little more leverage. He took a deep breath, counted to three, and used all of his strength to push it off of them. He was just about to give up when he felt it slide off his back and land on the floor a few feet away. He allowed himself one scream from the pain and frustration, then rolled off of Taylor to the little section of floor between her and the fallen curio cabinet.

Ryan laid there on his side, unable to catch his breath, unable to think for his back. He cut his eyes to the body beside of him. Despite everything, Taylor hadn't moved, hadn't spoken. He willed himself to sit up and even though the room was beginning to spin, he centered himself and instinctively felt behind him where the pain was coming from. When he felt a sharp, large piece of glass sticking out of him, he groaned. He didn't need this right now, not with Taylor hurt.

He made himself ignore his screaming body and focus only on getting her out of there. Taking another deep breath, he picked himself up off of the floor and kneeled beside her. Gently, he rolled her on her back. Her face didn't have a mark on it. In fact, she only looked to be sleeping. Only the blood trickling down the side of her face gave her condition away.

Ryan quickly checked her pulse, mentally cursing himself for not doing it sooner. It was weak, but it was there. He pulled out his cell phone to dial 9-1-1. There was no service. Cursing loudly, he carefully picked her up, his back loudly protesting, and cradled her in his arms as he exited her room looking for help.


	2. Deserted

_A/N: Thank you so much for the reviews. It definitely makes me smile :) Anyway, something you should know before you read this chapter. I changed one thing from the TV version (you know, besides the fact that Taylor is hurt). It's spelled out in the story, but just a heads up. Ryan's vehicle is destroyed in the quake. Seth is able to drive his. Didn't want you to skim by that and say, "huh? Why doesn't he just drive?"_

_As always, please let me know what you think. For some reason, this is more nerve-racking to post than the Twilight stories LOL. _

_Disclaimer, I don't own any of these characters._

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**Chapter 2: Deserted**

As his stupid luck would have it, his car had been completely destroyed by a fallen lamp post during the quake. So he picked Taylor up and went for help on foot.

He walked as well as he could down the street, Taylor was limp in his arms. His shirt beginning to saturate with her blood. It was a scene that he knew was eerily familiar. He absolutely refused to allow another woman he loved to die. He couldn't live through it again.

"Come on, Taylor. Wake up." he demanded, completely ignoring his previous vow not to waste energy speaking. He was growing weak from his own blood loss, a fact that was irritating as hell. But he kept on walking.

"This is typical Taylor Townsend." he went on, hoping to some how raise her ire and have her wake up to argue with him. Maybe slap him. Slapping would be acceptable. "Taylor Townsend, being all selfish and getting knocked out when I had you covered up just so I'd have to carry _your_ sorry ass while I'm standing here bleeding to death. You should be carrying _me,_ Townsend." He watched her for any sign of movement as his feet began to stumble.

Nothing.

Ryan's frustration level went through the roof and wanted to yell at her, shake her, _make_ her wake up, even though he knew it was stupid and impossible. Didn't make it any less appealing. After two more steps, his legs gave way, and he found himself collapsing to one knee. He held her tighter so he wouldn't drop her and hurt her more as he felt his legs completely give way. That was it. He'd lost too much blood himself. He couldn't make his legs move anymore.

Wanting to kick himself for being weak, he grabbed Taylor's wrist and began checking again for a pulse. To him, it didn't feel as strong as it had the first time. Quickly, he took out his cell, praying for service. He struggled to catch his breath as he saw a few bars on the display, indicating he had a signal.

At first, he tried to call 9-1-1. However, everyone else in the area must have had the same idea since all he got in return was a busy signal. Disgusted, he clicked END and dialed again.

Busy.

"Dammit!" he seethed through clinched teeth. He looked back down at Taylor who by that time was paper pale, and he knew that he probably didn't look much better himself.

He took a second, a short moment, to clutch the phone in his hand and hit his forehead with frustration. This was so wrong. This was California. Millions of people. And no one had passed them, and no one had offered help. And they were going to die in the middle of the street from a little bump on the head and a glass splinter.

After his very brief mental break, he calmed himself and decided to dial Seth, hoping he wasn't hurt and could somehow get to him. A small amount of relief washed over him at the sound of his voice. _"Ryan?"_

"Yeah, Seth it's me. Listen, where are you?" Man, he knew his voice sounded bad.

_"Well, Summer and I were on our way to her house with Taylor's presents. A red light busted the windshield and a street light crashed down--"_

"Can you drive?" he cut him off, his voice pained and panting no matter how hard he tried to cover it up.

_"Yeah, yeah. The car's drive-able. I'll just have to drive like a dog with my head hanging out of the window."_

"Look man, Taylor's hurt. I need you to get here as fast as you can to take us to the hospital."

_"Us? You ok--"_

"She's bleeding really bad." he cut him off, not wanting to get into details. "Hurry up. She's not got a lot of time." He then explained about his vehicle being destroyed, where they were, then shut off his phone. His body wanted him to just lie down next to Taylor and wait for Seth to get there. His mind wanted him to get up and carry Taylor to meet the jeep so they would be that much closer to the hospital.

His body won out and he collapsed next to Taylor in the middle of the apparently untraveled road. He lay there, looking at the night sky, feeling like a total and complete jackass. _Come on Atwood. Get up you pussy! She needs you._

Ryan sighed heavily, willed himself to sit up, and when the earth stopped spinning, he stood, and picked Taylor up again. This time he turned her the opposite way, her head was lying across his right arm. He thought at least maybe that would give his back a little relief.

It didn't.

With nothing else to do, he talked to Taylor. "I figured you'd be awake by now. I mean, it wasn't even _that_ big of a hit to the head. I mean, you know, my back. Major injury. You are just milking this, you know. You aren't going to let a little ding on the head do you in, are you? I expected more from Veronica Townsend's daughter."

He stopped few a few beats to catch his breath, and then went on walking and talking. "We're, well I'm, going to keep walking. We are going to get to Seth and Summer, and we'll get you help. Just hold on for me, ok?"

It was getting harder to walk as his legs were becoming increasingly numb. He knew that was a bad thing, but he couldn't dwell on it.

The sight of familiar headlights made him close his eyes and sigh, happy that his walk was just about over. Seth pulled up beside of him, jumped out and helped Ryan get Taylor in the backseat. Summer was busy throwing boxes of Taylor's birthday presents out onto the street. She told herself that she'd come back later and get them. That Taylor probably wouldn't mind. When she got all of the boxes out of the way, Summer went back to sit shotgun. "Oh God!" she gasped when she saw how bad Taylor looked. "Is she--"

"She's fine." Ryan; tired, hurt, and scared; snapped. "We've gotta go."

Seth was standing behind Ryan as he crawled into the backseat with Taylor. He just so happened to look down and see something glistening in the moonlight. Upon closer inspection, he realized that it was blood, and something sharp sticking out through his shirt. "Ryan, what did you--"

"Doesn't matter." he looked back at him, his eyes big and full of many things Seth couldn't imagine. "Come on Seth. Drive!"

Seth shut the door once he was sure Ryan was inside and ran to the driver's side door. In the backseat, Ryan positioned Taylor so her head was lying in his lap. He reached out to stroke her cheek, and then hesitated. If he touched it, and it was cold, he'd lose it right then and there. Reaching back out to touch her, he decided he didn't care.

Seth took off back toward the hospital, his emergency lights flashing brightly. Summer used the passenger mirror on the sun visor to look behind her. What she saw broke her heart. Ryan had shifted Taylor up in his arms, and he was gently kissing her forehead and whispering something in her ear. She watched as he carefully ran his fingers down her neck and stopped to check her pulse. Her own heart skipped a beat as she saw Ryan's reaction. And a tear flow down his cheek.


	3. Waiting

_A/N: I just wanted to thank you all for the reviews and reading this. After 5 stories I have FINALLY figured out how to reply, so expect some of that now. Anyway, I don't think there is really anything you need to know for this chapter. I hope you like it._

_Disclaimer: I don't own these characters._

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**Chapter 3: Waiting**

Ryan woke up with a jolt. Everything was all hazy and blurry, and for a moment, he thought it was all a bad dream. That is until he tried to move his arm and felt the pull of tape.

An IV.

It was then he realized it hadn't been a dream. It had been in fact all too real. So that meant...

_Taylor_

He didn't take the time to realize where he was, although he knew it was obviously the hospital. He swung his arm around so he could get out of bed and was answered back with a sharp pain centered at the side of his back. Now irritated and fairly groggy, he reached to pull the IV out. Before he could, a hand wrapped tightly around his wrist.

"Hey, man. Ryan. Take it easy."

"Seth, let me go." To him, his voice sounded so far away, like it wasn't even his own.

Seth held on a little tighter as Ryan tried to push him off. "Ryan, just stop. OK? Stop." It took all he had to hold Ryan's normally stronger hand down. "Come on. If you keep this up, they'll come in and sedate you again."

The sound of the word "again" made him finally stop and really concentrate on his brother. "What do you mean 'again'? How many times have I been out?"

"Well, you know, it's complicated. Depending on whether you mean naturally out or helped with drugs out--" Seth stammered.

"Seth--"

"Three times. But man, you just wouldn't lay still and they were worried you were gonna split something open or worse – they had to keep you sedated."

Stunned, Ryan laid his head back against the pillow and really focused on where he was. He was in a single room. Not an ER room. Bright sunlight was streaming from the window and seeing as it had been dark when the earthquake hit, he reasoned that he had been out for some time.

"Three times?" He repeated.

"Yeah," Seth released his hands, fairly satisfied that Ryan wasn't going to flee. He paced back to the chair which he had called home for the last 12 hours. "The first time you passed out on your own while you walked into the hospital. Freaked Summer out. It was kinda cool. She started shrieking and yelling that you were dead--"

"Summer?"

"See, she was holding you up, helping you walk, and when you collapsed she started--" Ryan shot him a look that Seth took to mean either _"I'm going to kill you if you don't hurry up with this."_ OR _"I'm going to kill you if you don't hurry up with this." _"Yeah, OK" Seth went on. "So Summer was helping you in, and I had Taylor."

The sound of that name, Taylor, caused him to sit up quickly again. Seth, for once, was quicker than his injured friend and ran up to hold him back again. "Whoa, buddy. Again I say, calm down or they will be back with the magic juice and make you go bye-bye for the 4th time."

Ryan didn't have the time or patience to speak Seth at that moment, so he just cut to the chase. "Help me get to Taylor."

"I can't."

"Please." Ryan's plea caused Seth to flinch. He hated seeing his normally emotionally reserved friend begging. It wasn't the way of the universe.

Seth let go of Ryan's hand, and instead patted him on the shoulder. "Taylor is fine, Ryan, OK. But you're not. That 'tiny little stake'," he used air quotes, "nearly killed you, and believe it or not, you _can_ die."

Ryan rubbed his hands on his face with frustration. "I have to see her, Seth."

"I know. But you have to take it easy. You haven't had it so easy, man. Oh, and for the record, we are officially brothers now. Blood brothers."

_Blood brothers_ instantly made Ryan look at his dark headed counterpart and raise an eyebrow. "You gave me blood?"

"That I did."

"You hate needles."

"That I do. So that's why I'm asking you this one tiny favor... Ryan, know that I love you, you are very important to me, kinda like a good well-fitting shoe or a mole you get very attached too, but please, for the love of _God_, please don't get out of bed, rupture your stitches, start bleeding again, and waste the blood I have shed for you."

Ryan thought for a moment. "That's very Biblical."

"Don't tell Dad." Seth shrugged, an amused smile beginning to form on his lips.

Finally, Ryan relented and laid back on the bed, making Seth sigh in victory. Seth looked at Ryan. Ryan looked at Seth. After a beat, Ryan finally raised his eyebrow and said, "Taylor?" Reminding Seth that he hadn't told him squat about her.

"She's fine, like I said. A few bumps and bruises. Lost a lot of blood, but Cruella de Townsend showed up and donated so she's stable now."

"Veronica is here?"

"Yeah, imagine waking up to _that_."

"I'd rather not." Ryan gave a small chuckle; he was beginning to feel a little better about everything. Taylor was fine, according to Seth, so that's what mattered. "So, when did she wake up?"

"Who?" Seth answered in his 'I really don't want to answer that' voice.

"Mother Teresa. Who do you think?"

"Taylor? Well, she's not exactly awake yet."

Ryan's brow furrowed meaning an angry _What the Hell? You have just been lying to me this entire time!_

Seth held up his hands in protest. "Now, Ryan. I haven't been lying." he answered as if he could read Ryan's thoughts... and by now, he probably could. "She _is _stable. She _is_ fine. She's just not awake."

When Ryan tried to rise up for the third time, Seth just raised his finger. "Do I have to call the nurse?"

"Taylor needs me. You said it yourself. She will be scarred forever waking up to Veronica Townsend."

"Your family needs you too." a very familiar female voice interrupted from the doorway. Both boys turned to see Kirsten and Sandy standing there.

Seth forgot about his drama with Ryan and focused on his mother. He knew she had been hurt in the quake, and he had been told a few hours earlier that the baby probably wouldn't make it. He wasn't exactly sure how to address his parents, as was his normal issue with speaking, but this was important and he didn't want to upset his mother any more than she might already be.

"Mom, how is-- how are you?"

Instinctively, she raised her hands to her stomach and began caressing the small bump that had seemed to shoot up over night. "Everything's fine Seth. The baby made it."

As Seth smiled brightly, very happy with the way the night had turned out, sans the needle.

It was Ryan's turn to speak. "Was there a doubt? Was the baby in trouble?"

"There was some cramping, some blood, but she's OK." Kirsten smiled at Sandy.

Seth caught that little slip of the lip. "She."

Sandy placed his arms around his wife. "That's right. Sorry boys, but you're getting a sister."

"Cool." Seth answered.

"Yeah, you guys. That's really great. Congratulations." Ryan said. He was happy for Kirsten and Sandy and Seth, and himself too for getting a little sister, but he really needed to see Taylor. He had lain in that bed long enough. "Well," he said before getting up quickly before Seth could catch him. When his feet his feet hit the floor and the room began to look more like a merry-go-round spinning than a hospital, he thought maybe he had made a bad mistake. "Whoa, whoa." Sandy called, running to catch him before he fell back down, possibly busting his stitches. He gently sat Ryan back on the side of the bed.

Once he had himself balanced, he held his hands up to shrew off the throws of concerned family members. "Hang on, OK. Just back off. Please. I'm not 12."

"No." Kirsten replied calmly, sitting herself next to him. "No, you're not 12, but you are still my child, and I almost lost one of you today." She rubbed her pregnant belly. "And I almost lost you." She gently reached up and rubbed the stray hairs off of his forehead. "I'm not going though that again."

"Kirsten, I appreciate it. But it was just a scratch."

"Which required a blood transfusion." She corrected.

He knew he wasn't going to win any argument with Kirsten Cohen, much less a pregnant Kirsten Cohen. He dropped his head. "I have to see her, Kirsten."

She smiled. "Of course you do. But you have to do this the right way. You are hurt too you know. Seth, go get the doctor please."

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Truth be told, the wheelchair probably hurt his back more than just walking. The chair rode bumpy and rubbed viciously at the spot where the gauze was stuck down. Seth had told him that he had twenty-four stitches, and the doctor who came in before they allowed him to leave his bed told him that he was very lucky to be alive. But Ryan didn't care what Seth, Dr. Whats-his-name, Kirsten, Sandy or anybody said. He simply nodded when appropriate and didn't argue with all of the insane guidelines they gave him. He just wanted to hurry up and get to Taylor.

Kirsten, Seth, and even a very nice nurse named Tibby offered to push him to Taylor's room, but he declined. It was something he wanted to do himself. Thankfully, the doctor agreed but only with the stipulation that he had to call someone immediately if he began hurting in any way and that he had a forty-five minute limit. Again, Ryan nodded and didn't fight. He would see later if they could drag him out if he didn't want to go.

Veronica Townsend was the first person he saw when he wheeled himself around the corner leading to Taylor's room. She looked no worse for wear. You couldn't even tell she had been through an earthquake and her daughter had nearly died. She was leaning on the wall next to Taylor's door, her arms crossed, her eyes shut. She didn't see him at first so he got to take a good look at her. She looked very 'presentable'. Her hair and make-up all in place. She wore dark denim jeans, a pink long-sleeved undershirt with a wine colored vest. Even though Ryan thought of her as a heartless whore, he could see she was, at least on the outside, fairly attractive. But the inside was a totally different story. Taylor had told him stories that made his skin crawl, and that wasn't an easy feat seeing as his own mother had once been a lousy alcoholic.

The look Veronica gave Ryan when she finally noticed him rolling up to her in the hallway would freeze a demon in Hell. "Ryan." she acknowledged him coolly, he was sure it was for the benefit of the onlookers at the nurses station across the hall from where she stood. Her icy glare faded into a polite smile, again, he knew for the benefit of anyone eavesdropping.

He decided to cut the bull and get on with it. "Ms. Townsend. How is she?"

"She just woke up. The doctor is in there with her now."

The tightness surrounding Ryan's heart seemed to ease some when he heard she was awake. She couldn't be _that_ bad if she was awake. "I need to see her."

Veronica looked around to make sure no one was looking then slithered off of the wall and bend down in front of him. "Ryan. I know you think you care about my daughter and thank you for saving her and getting her here. But I'm here now. You aren't wanted, and you aren't needed. You should just go back to your room and focus on getting yourself better. We don't need you."

"No, leaving Taylor when she needs help is _your_ MO, not mine. You can't keep me from her."

"The Hell I can't." She smirked wickedly. "Whether you like it or not, _I'm_ her mother. You are what? Her latest obsession? Her current boy toy? You have no rights here."

They continued fighting like that, their voices getting louder and louder, until finally Taylor's door opened and a doctor, maybe in his early 40s with salt and pepper hair and gold wire-framed glasses, stepped out. "Excuse me." he said to the bickering duo, who, in turn, never looked at him. Just kept at it. He cleared his throat. "Excuse me!" Veronica finally faced him, turning on her signature charm, and Ryan rolled closer.

"Is she OK? Can I see her?" Ryan asked quickly before Veronica could cut him off.

"Actually, I just came out here to tell you both that your arguing was upsetting her and to please tone it down... or knock it off completely. Your choice." Anyone around could tell that the doctor was annoyed.

Veronica cut her eyes to the wheelchair bounded teenager. "It's his fault."

"With all due respect, Ma'am, it is both of your faults. Now, cool it so I can finish my examination." He turned to go back in when Ryan caught him. "Can you -- please-- tell her that I'm out here? That Ryan's here."

The doctor turned and pushed his glasses back up his nose. "And, Ryan, how are you related to Taylor."

"He's not." her mother cut in bitterly.

"I'm her-- we're dating. I was with her when she got hurt. Just tell her, please."

The doctor nodded. "I will let her know. Now you two please wait out here and be.nice." he made sure to emphasize the last two words. "I'll let you know when you can come in and see her."

Veronica hurried passed Ryan and grabbed the doctor by the arm. "That _boy_ is not allowed to see my daughter."

The doctor politely took his arm back. "Taylor is over eighteen, and may see whomever she wishes." with that the doctor disappeared back into her room.

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"Thank you." she said in a very deflated tone when the doctor returned to her room.

"No problem." he smiled sweetly. "You don't have to see anyone until you feel ready."

"Right now, I don't know if I'll ever be ready." she laughed bitterly. "So. Who was out there?"

"Your mom and a boy. Says his name is Ryan."

"Ryan." she repeated, rubbing her fingers across the creases in the bed sheets.

The doctor looked at her with kind eyes and patted her arm. "Ring any bells, Ms. Townsend?"

She looked up at him, her eyes glistening with undropped tears. "No none. I can't seem to remember anything."


	4. The Liar

_A/N: Sorry this took awhile to update. I wanted to thank you again for all of the reviews. It's made my day!!_

_Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters._

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**Chapter 4: The Liar**

"So, you really don't remember anything at all, Taylor?"

The doctor sounded so sweet, so concerned, it almost made her feel relaxed when he spoke to her.

Almost.

In reality, she just wanted to curl up in her hospital bed, hug her pillow and cry until her memories came back. Until the entire black void in her brain was filled. She felt like a stranger in her own body. And, truthfully, she was scared. But even though she didn't know anything about herself--she had only learned her name and birth date when the doctor had told her-- she knew that who ever 'Taylor Townsend' was, she wasn't a crier. She was stronger that that.

"No, nothing." she answered him, willing those stray tears of fear that were stinging her eyes to just go away. She sighed to give herself a moment to collect herself, hoping the doctor wouldn't take that opportunity to ask her something else to remind her that she had no idea what was going on. "So... how long am I going to be like this?"

The doctor shrugged. "Hard to say. Amnesia affects people differently. Could be hours, days, weeks, months--"

"Years?"

He turned his eyes away from her briefly like he didn't want to tell her any more bad news, but when he looked back; it was the same caring gaze that she had seen after the scary lady left her when she woke up. "Taylor, unfortunately, you may never get your memories back. There is really no cure and no real explanation. We just have to take it day by day."

She didn't hear any of the last part past 'never'. _Never_. She let it roll over and over in her mind. How did a 19 year old go on with no memories of the past, no recollection of her family, her friends (surely she had some), or her future goals and aspirations. It was all getting too much for her to handle. She didn't even hear herself, but the doctor did. As she was thinking, she kept repeating, "Never" sadly.

The doctor reached out and patted her on the leg to bring her back into reality. When Taylor finally looked at him, he smiled a genuine smile. A smile a father would give a daughter, or so she thought. "Taylor, are you alright? I know it's a lot to take in."

"Oh sure," she said sarcastically. "I have amnesia. I'm a freaking soap opera cliché. I've never been better... or at least I don't remember it if I have."

He had to try very hard to suppress a chuckle. "Be that as it may, you have a mother and boyfriend who want to see you. Do you want to tell them or do you want me to?"

Her eyes shot back at him, big and confused. "Tell them what?"

His brow furrowed. "Tell. Them..." he stammered. "Tell them about your condition."

"Oh." she gasped. "No, no." She sat up much too quickly, causing the room to spin quickly around her. "Oh," she moaned pained as she brought her hand up to touch the bandage on the right side of her head just behind her ear. She began speaking again right after the room had stopped twirling. "We can't tell them anything."

"I think they'll figure it out."

"No, no. Maybe not. Doesn't matter because I don't _know _them. Do _you_ know them?"

"Well, no, not exactly--"

"Precisely! For all I know they could want to use me for some kind of science experiment, OR they could be after my money-- am I rich?" She cut him off before he could answer. "Never mind. What if--"

"Taylor." the doctor said apparently to no one as the girl named Taylor just kept on freaking out.

"--they aren't really related to me. What if they are from the government and want to use my amnesiac brain to brainwash me into killing the governor or worse--"

"Taylor."

"Or they could be from--"

"Ms. Townsend." he interrupted more sternly. When she finally stopped talking, he began by patting her on the arm. "From what I can tell, those people out there are your family and not some scientific alien government alliance sent to brainwash you."

"You don't know that." she pouted.

Again, he laughed. There was something about Taylor that endeared him. "Those people out there and others actually are going to know something is up. It's not so easy to lie when you don't even know what you are lying about."

"I'm not lying."

He crossed his arms and stared at her. "Oh really. Well OK then, what is your favorite color?"

She eyeballed him. "What does that have to do-- Oh." she said when she realized what he was doing. She squared her shoulders and said, "Red."

"And what if I was your mother and I said, 'Taylor, what's wrong with you? You know you just adore lavender.'?"

"I would tell her that I've changed and so have my tastes."

"From a bump on the head?"

"Could happen."

He rubbed his hand across the tension knots that seemed to be forming in his shoulders. "This isn't going to work." he advised.

"I don't have to do it forever. Just say as little as I can until my memory comes back."

The doctor shook his head, knowing this wasn't an argument he could win against her. "So, who would you like for me to invite in first?"

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Ryan sat outside in his wheelchair, growing impatient. He and Veronica hadn't spoken since the doctor had chastised them, but still he had to _look_ at her, the woman who threw Taylor out like the trash when she had no one else. He knew what that was like and he didn't feel as forgiving towards her as Taylor might.

So instead of wasting time swapping barbs with the woman, he sat quietly, thinking about what could be taking so long with Taylor. He didn't have much time left as per the doctor's orders, and he'd be damned if he spent his entire leave sitting in the hall, staring at a wall with Veronica Townsend.

Finally, the door opened and the salt and pepper hair doctor came out. Ryan wasted no time wheeling up between Veronica and him. "I have to see her. Now." he demanded.

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Taylor sat nervously on her bed, reviewing the notes she had taken. The doctor, who she learned was named James McCarthy, told her everything he knew about the two people waiting to see her. He didn't know much about her mom except that the address on Taylor's admission forms weren't the same as her mother's, and her mother wasn't listed who to call in case of emergency. Those numbers were for a Summer Roberts and Ryan Atwood, the other person waiting to see her. Dr. McCarthy told Taylor that Ryan had been seriously hurt himself in the earthquake. He didn't treat him, but he asked a colleague who said that it was touch and go for a while for him. He had lost a lot of blood trying to save her. It made her feel incredibly guilty to not remember a man who did that much for her. She tried harder, but only received the beginnings of a headache for her trouble.

Deciding she'd had enough, she tossed the notebook in the drawer beside the bed and began smoothing down her covers around her nervously. First meetings and all--

When the door opened to her room, she felt panicked and instantly reached to smooth her hair. She mentally kicked herself for not thinking about it before, but with all that was going on, she hadn't thought to make herself look presentable.

She stopped messing with herself when she saw him.

She had expected the wheelchair by Dr. McCarthy's description, but what she hadn't counted on was for the occupant to look nearly as bad as she felt. The man, Ryan she concluded, was very pale, as white as a ghost. And it was all her fault. All because he was trying to help her. Maybe he loved her, or maybe he saved all the ladies. Maybe he was wired like that. She couldn't be sure just like she couldn't be sure of anything. She only prayed that this Ryan Atwood liked to talk so she wouldn't have too and maybe get some answers.

The moment their eyes met, Taylor put on her biggest, 'Hey, I'm OK." smile. "Ryan." she greeted politely. Then mentally admonished herself again, wondering if it was too polite, too formal. She felt the confidence waning and she began thinking that maybe this wasn't the best idea in the world.

The blond boy smiled back. "Taylor." he said, rolling himself up to her bedside. And that was it. All he said. _Great. Not a chatterbox, _she thought sighing.

"So," she began. "How are you? I heard you were hurt."

"Fine. Fine. Just a scratch. I'm more worried about you. Are you ok?" he took her hand as she spoke and she fought every nerve ending she had not to pull away. He might feel comfortable touching her, but to her, he was a stranger, a very handsome stranger, yes, but a stranger none the less.

"I'm fine." she lied, taking her hand back to rake her hair back behind her ears. She hoped he didn't see it for the evasive maneuver that it was.

"Really?" he said it like he didn't believe it, with his eyes in slants toward her.

"Yes, really. But back to you. You look very pale for someone who just got a scratch." She was trying anything to get the conversation back to him and off of her. She didn't feel much like talking about herself and the 30 minutes of her life she actually remembered.

He shrugged.

"So," she pushed. "Tell me. What happened?"

"Well, what do you remember?"

Such a loaded question. "The earthquake." she said quickly, lying through her teeth. The only way she even knew there was an earthquake was because the doctor had told her. But he didn't question it, just nodded and went on. "Yeah, the earthquake that was-- intense."

"Intense." she agreed, awkwardly matching his nod. "You hurt your back, right?"

He looked at her quickly. "How'd you know about that?"

_Crap. _She saw wheels turning in his head that she did not want to see. She didn't want her cover blown in the first 10 minutes. "The doctor told me – I asked about you." she added after he didn't speak.

He put the brakes on his chair and rose up gingerly. "Are you sure you should be doing that?" she asked him. He only smiled back. "I don't really care." he said as he eased himself onto the side of her bed facing her. The look on his face, the smile, made her heart leap and break all at the same time. She really wished she could remember him. His kind face. His deep blue eyes. She bet they had lots of good times together. She couldn't wait to remember them.

He reached up and placed a stray piece of hair behind her ear before she had time to think about it. "They will just haul me out of here in a few minutes anyway. Might as well get some enjoyment out of it."

"Haul you out, huh?" she giggled. There was something about the look on his face that made her laugh.

"Only way I'll leave."

"Really? Well, at least entertain me with a story before you are hauled away. Tell me what happened to you."

"Nothing to tell." he shrugged averting her eyes. When he looked back he saw the determination and the 'never take no' look in her eyes. He knew he was done for. "Yeah, OK. I was covering you up, obviously not very well," he reached up and gently touched her bandage on her head. She kept reminding herself not to jerk away. He was her boyfriend after all. He was allowed to touch her. He was warm and kind... and really hot. "A curio cabinet fell on us." he went on. "I got a small cut on my back. You got knocked on the head. Scared me a little."

"Let me see it." she surprised herself with the demand. She didn't know where her curiosity came from... and her inability to not make herself shut up even when she knew it was the right thing to do.

"It's nothing." Ryan answered, his face getting a little color in his cheeks. Taylor liked how it made him look.

"Nothing. Really?"

"Really."

"A small cut." she repeated his earlier statement.

"Yeah."

"That put you in a wheelchair. Man, you are much wimpier than I thought." she laughed and then noticed him looked at her kind of strangely. "You've never thought that-- have you?" She didn't know what to do, to backtrack, to go forward, to laugh it off as a joke. She knew she had said too much, gotten to into the moment and now he would figure things out, let her mother take her to the brainwashing facility, and then that would be that.

She swatted her hand like she was shooing a fly and brushed the comment off. "I'm just teasing, Ryan." she said it with ease, but in reality, her heart was beating a mile a minute hoping he bought it. She didn't have time to question herself about her motives for lying or about how maybe this man that looked really trustworthy really _was_ trustworthy. She just wanted to get through the next few minutes. That's all.

It took him a second, but he seemed ok with that answer. "So, anyway, the 'scratch'" she reminded pointing to his back. Ryan sighed, turned, and raised his gown up exposing the top of his boxers and the large piece of gauze on the side of his back. Taylor gasped and her mind began to race when she saw the size of it, and the dark red spots beginning to from on it.

Blood.

"Oh God, Ryan." Instinctively reaching out to touch it. "Does it hurt? That's a stupid question." she backtracked. "Of course it hurts. And you got it, because of me-- because you were saving me." Everything was hitting her hard and fast. No memories were coming back, but something else. Guilt. Panic. The knowledge that someone had done something so selfless for her and she was too stupid to even remember it.

Her breathing began getting quicker and her hand began to tremble. The dark red spots were getting bigger. She didn't know who she was, but she was pretty sure she didn't like blood, especially when it was her fault the other person was bleeding.

Ryan felt her shaking and turned to face her. She was pale, deathly pale and trembling. "Taylor?" He asked grabbing her shoulders tightly. "Taylor, calm down. What's the matter? Are you hurting anywhere?"

She tried to make her lips move, to tell him about the blood, but she couldn't. The shock of the earthquake. The trauma of it all. The blackness the hole in her mind was causing began taking a toll on her. She began to shake.

"Taylor, calm down ok. You are ok."

"You're bleeding." She heard herself say. "You're hurt. You could have bled to death, Ryan. You still might. You could have died-- because of me."

"No no. I am fine. I wasn't hurt as bad as you--"

"LIAR!" she screamed, tears now flowing down her cheeks, and then instantly regretted it. The door opened almost as quickly as she had said it and the scary lady came running back in.

The first thing Veronica saw when she came in was Ryan sitting on Taylor's bed, holding her shoulders while she looked terrified. She took it to mean what she wanted it too. "Ryan! Leave my daughter alone! What are you doing?" She ran up to him and tried to break his grasp on Taylor.

"She's flipping out. Stop it, Veronica!"

At that moment, Taylor wanted to crawl under the floorboards and cry. Here this man was, this kind man who had saved her, who was trying to save her again even though he was-- she couldn't think about his back and the blood. Surely, she wasn't the type of person to faint at the site of blood. She was such a wimp. Taylor Townsend was a freaking wimp. She tried to find the words to speak, but the world began getting all fuzzy again. "Ryan." she mumbled, barely audible.

"Veronica, get the doctor, now. She's going under again."

She didn't want to leave that boy with her daughter, but she knew she had no choice. She ran to the door and yelled, with the help of some not-so-nice expletives, for the damn doctor.

"Hold on, Taylor. Stay awake for me, please. It's ok. I'm ok. You're ok. Calm down. Please. Don't leave again."

Taylor heard his words. She felt his lips to hers, but that's all she could do. The darkness surrounded her again quickly as she slipped down deeper into nothingness.

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	5. Nightmares

_A/N: I'm sorry this has taken so long. There was, well, life. Anyway, I hope you all like it._

Disclaimer, I don't own any of these characters.

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Chapter 5: Nightmares

Taylor wasn't out very long, but it felt long enough to her. While she was out, she dreamed, and what she dreamed, scared her.

There was a house. A big, bright, beautiful house. Close to the ocean. So close she could smell the salt air. The house was made up almost entirely of large, sprawling windows stretching from the floor all the way to the high ceiling.

She was walking through it. It seemed familiar enough--not that she could place it. She kept hearing herself yelling for her mom, not that she could for the life of her figure out why. She felt like she should be yelling for someone else.

Ryan maybe.

She started to call for him to see if he was there... to see if _anyone_ was there. Before she could say his name, she turned a corner and saw someone else in the house. She saw that the person was wearing a long, white, flowing gown just a little off the shoulders. The bottom hem kissed the floor right above bare feet. "Hello?" she called out, and began walking toward the figure. It only took a few steps to realize that the person was her. It was a full-length mirror. She laughed nervously and blushed for being so silly to think that her reflection was actually someone else.

The closer she got, though, the slower she walked. Something wasn't right. The reflection wasn't what she remembered. Then it hit her. She hadn't looked at the face. And when she did, she screamed and backed away, but the reflection only stood still, smiling devilishly through mangled lips. The face was full of scars, old, ugly, and the hair in an unkempt bun, falling like tentacles around the face. The eyes were fully white, barren, empty. Hideous.

Taylor kept screaming and backing away, touching her face to feel if it was real, of those scars were hers. Her reflection escaped the mirror and began walking toward her. It curled its lips exposing jagged, monstrous teeth. "Bitch!" it yelled at her before it stopped, contorted its fingers, and leapt at her. "Ryan!" was the last thing she yelled before it through her against the wall and tore at her face.

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"Ryan!" Taylor screamed, sitting straight up in the bed. It was dark. She didn't know where she was. She was shaking and scared. Instantly, her hands found her face, searching for claw marks, scratches, the sign of the Devil, anything. When she felt the pull of the IV cord, she realized that she was still in the hospital. Not in that house. Not with that monster who had her face. And she was alone.

She brought her knees to her chest, rested her head on them, and began rocking back and forth. She couldn't shake the dream and wondered what the hell it meant.

She was so wrapped up in her own head that she didn't hear the door to her room open, and someone enter.

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"I have to get back to Taylor. Ow." Ryan protested as a doctor, Dr. Gleeson, worked on repairing his broken stitches. He felt terrible for making Taylor pass out, for breaking his stitches, for making Kirsten worry. He'd never forget the look on her face when they wheeled him back to his room on a bed rather than his wheelchair. He never wanted to see her so pale again. He was torn between the two women who meant the most to him, and he hated it.

"You've broken almost half of your stitches, Ryan. I know how hard it is for you, but you have to take care of yourself first before you can take care of Taylor." Kirsten replied from across the room. Her arms crossed.

"I know. I know that, but Taylor… she needs--"

"She _needs_ you not to bleed all over her, man. Blood and Taylor are like oil and water, fire and ice, Mr. T and airplanes. They don't mix." Seth told him from a chair next to his mother.

"Veronica is with her." Kirsten added.

"And that's supposed to make me feel better?" Ryan shut his eyes and tried to think of anything other than the pain and indignity of getting yet another round of stitches in his back.

When he saw Ryan flinch, Seth spoke up. "Hey, Ryan. Take it easy. I love you and all, but I do _not_ want another needle shoved in my arm because you keep breaking them."

"You mean, you'll cry." Ryan almost smiled.

"Just might. I'll admit it. Once is enough."

Ryan nodded. "Understood. I didn't mean to do this, guys. I just wanted closer to Taylor."

"I know." Kirsten walked over to him and rubbed his face like the mother she was to him. "And you will be. But for right now, you have to heal. We almost lost you, whether you want to believe it or not."

"I just have to know-- if she's woken up yet."

"Sandy's gone to check like you asked." Kirsten said, rubbing her son's shoulder soothingly. "Every thing's going to be ok."

"I hope so." Ryan replied, wishing that this Dr. Gleeson would hurry up with the damn stitches.

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He found her sitting in her bed, rocking, shaking, and silently crying.

"Taylor." he called to her, causing her to stop and look at him. Her eyes were big and bloodshot. He could tell she was terrified.

"Who are you?" she snapped, her voice shaking.

His brow furrowed. "It's me, Sandy. Ryan sent me to check on you."

"Ryan?"

"Yeah." he carefully walked over to her. To him, she looked like a deer caught in the headlights. "Do you remember what happened?"

And that simple question set her off. "No! No! I don't remember what happened!"-- And before she could say anything else, she remembered. She remembered the stupid vow she had made to herself to not let anyone know that she had amnesia. It seemed silly now, insane even. But she wasn't ready to confide, and especially not in a man she had no idea who was. She released her knees, but they stayed pulled to her chest and she raked her fingers through her hair to smooth it, buying herself some time to calm down. She thought back to what she did remember before that nightmare. That boy, Ryan, was there, sitting on her bed, bleeding--- that was enough. She couldn't think of any more or she'd faint.

She took a deep breath to steady herself, to erase that memory of the blood from her mind. "I mean, I remember Ryan here, and then-- nothing. Until I woke up and it was dark."

"Yeah, you fainted. Ryan's ok, though. He's getting re-stitched. Kirsten is giving him grief for hurting himself again."

_Kirsten?_ She thought, and wondered how many people she 'had' known before this entire thing. She'd probably have to become a hermit now, at least until her memory came back.

"Is he ok?" it was the only thing she could think to say.

"He's fine. You know Ryan."

_No, not really._ "S-sandy." that name didn't sound right at all to her, but she went with it. "Can you get the doctor for me? Please."

"Sure." he smiled a smile that put her strangely at ease. She wondered if he had that affect on everybody. "We're glad you're ok. You scared us."

"Sorry about that." she smiled back at him. It felt good to smile, but when he left, the smile faded, and she retreated back in the black hole of her useless mind. The face in the mirror haunting her.

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Veronica came back from the cafeteria with coffee in one hand and a gossip magazine in the other. She had been supposed to stay with Taylor while she was out, but had convinced herself that it would be awhile and went to get something to help her stay awake. Taylor had scared her, worried her, made her feel some sort of maternal instinct she wasn't used to feeling.

She loved her daughter. Sure. That was a given. But she had never really been proud of her. She'd always been either too fat, too nerdy, too unpopular, too mouthy, but she was still her daughter, and she loved her, even if for the most part she didn't like her that well. Especially after the French husband fiasco.

It wasn't her fault though, Veronica thought. It was Taylor's. She has always made the wrong choices. Had to lock people in a room to make them be friends with her. And she was always so stalkerish with the boys, especially Ryan which, truth be told, _was_ better than the French husband, but not by much. If only she could have time back, made, _helped_, her daughter make better choices, she would have both a better relationship with her daughter and maybe even a higher place in society. Win, win for both.

But it was too late. No way to take back the past sins. No way to erase all of her daughter's bad choices. No sense dwelling on the past.

She was halfway down the hall to Taylor's room when she noticed the door was cracked open. As she approached, she could hear the voices of her daughter and the doctor, Dr. McCarthy. She stood beside the door, discretely listening in on the conversation,

_"I can't do this anymore." Taylor said._

_"Then don't. Tell them the truth." The doctor answered._

_"I can't do that either. It would be worse."_

_"So, you are just going to pretend?"_

_"It will come back eventually, right?"_

_"Maybe--but--"_

_Taylor didn't wait for him to finish. "Then all I have to do is wait it out."_

_"But why?" the doctor pushed._

_"I don't know why. I just do. I don't want them to know that I'm helpless. I don't want them to know that I don't remember them. Remember anything."_

_"Taylor--"_

_"No. They can't know that I have amnesia."_

Veronica froze nearly choking on her coffee. Then she composed herself, and smiled brightly. Maybe it wasn't too late after all.

She turned and walked back down the hall, sipping her drink. The wheels in her mind already turning.


	6. The Longest Night

Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters...

I hope you like Chapter 6.

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Chapter 6: The Longest Night

Veronica Townsend placed the finishing touches on Taylor's old room and looked everything over carefully while nervously wringing her hands. It was perfect now, much better than it had been before. She had boxed up the unimportant things; a collage of 'perfect' girls she had given Taylor for inspiration, prom photos with that Korean model, all of her Harbor yearbooks (no sense in her knowing that she had no friends to sign it until she was a Senior and even then it was the Cohen boy, Roberts girl, Cooper, and the Chino kid. The less she saw relating to Ryan Atwood, the better in her opinion.)

When she decided the room was ready, Veronica smiled, pleased with herself. She had maneuvered a miracle getting Taylor released into her care, even if she wasn't on the contact sheet. She worked- _persuaded_- Taylor, who had been compliant when she spun her 'version' of the past and her time at Summer's. Veronica knew that Taylor had no idea who Summer was. She hadn't come to visit (another hush-hush request between her and the nursing staff. Taylor was always 'sleeping' when Summer dropped by). So talking Taylor into coming home hadn't been terribly difficult. Adding to her advantage, Taylor obviously didn't want her mom to know that she had amnesia. It couldn't have been more perfect.

Instead of the trivial movie posters and silly little trinkets Taylor had thrown on her lady-like pink walls (Veronica remembered picking the color out herself), Veronica had placed a gallery of her daughter's achievements; Valedictorian, head of the school's planning committee, some other odds and ends. Things to be proud of. No mention of boys, non-existent friends, or French husbands.

Just as it should have been.

Veronica sighed a contented sigh and shut off the light. Her daughter would be home in the morning. Back to the perfect life she would create for her without the pesky past to bog her down and plague her. Veronica thought that any mother worth her salt would do the exact same thing. Every mother wanted what was best for their daughter, and, for Veronica, that meant marrying rich and being happy. She would do everything in her power to make that happen. Taylor would thank her for it if she knew. Veronica knew she would. But she also knew that Taylor could never know. She just had to make sure that her daughter believed every word she told her. And that her memory never came back.

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That night, Taylor lay restlessly in her hospital bed, unable to sleep, unable to get comfortable.

The clock beside her bed read 12:46 am, and she had yet to sleep. She had no desire to sleep in fact. Last night's dream- nightmare- played continually in her mind, and she couldn't make herself go to a place where she might dream it again, or worse. She knew in her mind that he wasn't real. That what she dreamed wasn't a memory coming back. She knew that he face wasn't scarred and that she didn't have hideous claws for fingernails. She'd even gone so far as to check in the bathroom mirror earlier in the day. So what was it? Her mind playing tricks on her? Just a random nightmare? What? All she could figure was maybe before she had been a mean, hideous person on the inside and maybe it was her mind's way of telling her.

She didn't feel like a bitch. She didn't feel like anything actually. No love for her boyfriend. No warmth for her mother who had come and insisted she live with her. She tried her best to cover up the fact that she had no earthly idea who Summer Roberts was or why she had been living with her. And Taylor just wanted her mom to shut up and leave, so she tentatively agreed to live with her, and then regretted it ever second since she left. She was 19 after all. Why didn't she have an apartment of her own, alone-- away from Newport?

Unable to clear the cobwebs that kept collecting in her bogged down mind; she flipped on the TV and began surfing.

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"Seth. Seth." Ryan whispered across the room to his sleeping brother lying in a chair in a very uncomfortable looking angle. "Seth." he called again, this time just a little louder.

"What, man?" Seth finally answered, groggy and aggravated. "I'm dreaming. I'm the Hulk and you're Superman and we're fighting Lex Luthor, but he's on steroids."

"You're 19, Seth. And you're dreaming about comics?"

Seth shifted. "Would it make you feel better if I said we were all naked in this dream?"

"No. Not really."

"Ok, then. Take what you can get. What do you want?"

Ryan sat up carefully. He didn't want to mess up any stitches which would in turn make him stay in the hospital even longer and cause Seth to freak out on him. "Look. The tech just left. I have two hours until she comes back and checked my vitals again."

"Your point?"

"I have to see Taylor."

"No."

"Seth--"

"Ryan." he finally sat up and opened his eyes. It was much too bright in the room with the light over Ryan's bed shinning. "Look. You are not getting out of that bed. I have my orders."

"Your orders?" Ryan scoffed. "From who?"

"I believe the correct word is _whom_, Ryan. And to answer your question; Mom, Dad, the doctor, the nurses, and- oh yeah- me. Face it man, you are bound to stay in that bed."

"Is that a fact?"

"Yes. Indeed it is."

Ryan thought a minute. "So that's why you spent the night? To guard me?"

Seth nodded.

"You're going to make me stay here?"

"Yes, sir I am."

"By force?" Ryan almost smiled when he said it.

"If need be."

"Wanna test that theory?" Ryan made his voice menacing, but both boys knew he didn't mean it. There was no way he would ever challenge his loyalty to his parents.

"Bring it on." Seth retaliated, sitting up straighter in his chair and motioning him with his fingers. Just the look of him made Ryan automatically laugh. Seth did have a special way about him.

He decided to take a different approach. "I have to see her man." his voice was much softer. Much more pleading.

"I know." Seth answered sympathetically. "But you can't, Dude. You have to heal. You heard the doctor. You'll be out of here in two, three days tops. Then you can see Taylor as much as you want. Besides, she's probably like the rest of the Western Hemisphere, you and me being the exceptions, and sleeping."

Ryan shook his head. "No, I don't know. Sandy said she looked shaken up. I need to--"

"Dude!" Seth cut in exasperated. "Pick up the phone and call her room. Gah! Do I have to think of everything?!?" he rolled back into his sleeping position and shut his eyes. "But don't even think of trying to escape this room, Ryan Atwood. Remember that nurse, Edna?"

"Yeah." Ryan stretched out that word, worried where this was going. Nurse Edna was a fierce older woman, probably 350 pounds of solid muscle, short jet black hair, a hairy mole on her chin, and a bedside manner that would scare a four-star General.

"Well," Seth went on. "She has been enlisted to help out. Keep you on the straight and narrow as it were. And guess what? She's working the night shift." Seth smiled before sinking back to sleep without a worry in the world. "Night Ryan."

"Yeah, Night." he sighed heavily. He shut off the light and picked up the phone to dial Taylor's room.

She answered on the fourth ring. She didn't sound like she had been sleeping; just surprised someone had called at almost 1 a.m.

"Taylor, it's me."

It took her a minute to figure out who 'me' was. "Oh, hey R-ryan. How are you?"

"Fine, fine. You?"

"Great."

"Good."

"Look, I'm sorry about before. When I came in your room. I never meant to make you faint."

"Can we not talk about that right now, Ryan?" Just the thought of seeing that blood oozing from under his gauze made her queasy.

"Sure, yeah, ok." he waited a beat. "So, we're you asleep?"

"No. Just watching TV. They are having a marathon of The Valley. It's pretty good."

"I thought you'd be tired of it by now. They show re-runs of it all the time on that soap channel, right?"

"Nope, not tired of it at all. It's like I'm seeing it for the first time." she had to laugh at herself for that. She _was_ just seeing it for the first time that she remembered anyway. "So, Ryan. Did you want something?"

"No. Uh. No. Just checking in. Wanted to apologize. I wanted to see you, but Seth threatened bodily harm."

_And yet there is another one I don't remember_. "Well, we wouldn't want that. When are you getting released?" she wanted to change the subject away from another in a long cast of characters she didn't know...almost like watching The Valley.

"Two or Three days. They aren't real happy about my stitches breaking."

"Me either." she answered, sinking back under the covers. Somehow speaking to Ryan made her feel a little better. It eased her and she didn't know why. "I'm getting out tomorrow." she confided.

"Tomorrow? Really? That's great. And you're going where? Summer's?"

"Mom's actually."

"Really." he couldn't believe that, but knowing Taylor she probably took the earthquake as some sort of sign from the Heavens that it was time to make up with her mom. "You sure that's a good idea. I mean, you know your mom."

_Not really. _"Well, in any case, it is what it is."

"That's very Zen of you." Ryan laughed quietly, settling himself under his covers. Talking to Taylor was making him relax. She may be crazy, but she was his kind of crazy.

"Well, one of the characters just said it on The Valley and I thought it fit the situation."

She heard a soft laugh on the other end of the phone. "Well, you know. I'd better go. I need to get some sleep. Big day tomorrow and all." She really had no intention of sleeping, even though Ryan's call had comforted her. But there was no need in him knowing that, and she wanted to end their conversation on a high note.

"Yeah, big day. I have to admit. I'm very jealous. I'd love for the nurse to bring me some papers to sign... get me out of here."

_Signing paper. It hit her. Hard. A memory. Something._

_A restaurant. She was at the bar with some man in a suit. Speaking.... French. She felt sad. Then she was whipped around and kissed. Her eyes shut and for a second she didn't know who she was kissing. Then she opened her eyes and saw the most amazing pair of blue eyes she'd ever seen. The look in them curled her toes and when he tapped her gently, playfully on the edge of her nose, she knew she was done for. He pulled his eyes away from her and focused on the other man at the bar. "Where's that paper you need me to sign?"_

"Whoa." Taylor said without meaning too. She sat up suddenly, immediately pulling her palm to the side of her now aching head.

"Taylor? Taylor, what is it?"

"Nothing. It's nothing." _Nothing, just the first memory I've had to come back. Just the first kiss I remember. Just remembering that-- I *might* love you._

"I don't believe you. Look, I'm coming to your room..."

"No, don't. I'm OK. It's just, a commercial on TV. A waffle machine that doubles as a coffee maker. I've gotta go. Bye."

"Taylor. Taylor!" Ryan yelled into the receiver, but the phone was dead. He dialed again. She picked up instantly. "Ryan, I'm OK. I promise."

"Do you swear? Because I can be down there--."

"And risk the wrath of Seth; I'd rather not have that over my head."

"Ok, you call if you need me."

"I will. Goodnight, Ryan."

"Night, Taylor." He hung up the phone and debated on whether or not to just take his chances and make a run for it to her room anyway. But her figured in his current health, and the tag team of Seth and Nurse Edna, he'd not make it very far.

So he settled with staring at the ceiling, counting the tiles, and embarking on yet another sleepless night courtesy of being in love with Taylor Townsend.


	7. The Truth According to Veronica

**A/N: Sorry this has taken about 2 weeks. Life and stuff LOL. Hope you like it :)**

**Disclaimer: I don't own these people.**

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Chapter 7: The Truth According to Veronica

Veronica made it to the hospital about nine that morning. After a brief doctor's exam (and another pleading in vain by him to just tell people the truth), Taylor was released at a little after ten. The first thing she did, despite her mother's "gentle" urges not to, and her own knotted stomach, was to go see Ryan. He was her savior after all. It was only polite to see him before she left.

Honestly, it just felt too complicated. Going to be too uncomfortable to see him. The last time she'd seen him, he was oozing blood. She shook those images from her head as she made her way on toward his room. She was doing it for the sake of her secret, she told herself. He would definitely think something was up if she was released and at least didn't come to say bye, and him being suspicious was most assuredly not what she wanted.

She walked with her arms crossed over her light pink cotton jacket which complimented her pants (her mom brought them for her), head down, down the hallway, trying not to look at too many people, fearing someone would recognize her and she'd be unable to return it. Then there would be lying or, her worst fear, understanding of her condition and that would be it. Her goose would be cooked. As she walked she glanced up despite herself and saw a boy with dark, curly hair walking toward her in the opposite direction. He paused when he saw her and threw up his hand in greeting. She smiled back, but didn't stop. It wasn't like she knew the man from Adam and hoped that it would be good enough for him. Without looking back, she could still feel him eyeballing her, and then she felt relief as the eyes tore from her and he walked away.

Veronica waited outside Ryan's room, as per her daughter's request, as Taylor visited him. The visit was just as uncomfortable as Taylor thought it would be at first. Ryan explained about his dad, Frank, Julie, and Kaitlin coming to see him while he was there. She was so used to it by now that she didn't even stop long to ponder who the heck those people where. She just kept smiling. Kept nodding. Inwardly wondering how both Frank and this Sandy fellow both were related to Ryan. Gay couple perhaps? Didn't really matter anyway.

She knew he was her boyfriend. Anyone could see that with his obvious body language. For her part, she was sure she didn't seem to be the girlfriend. She stood not too close, but not too far away from his bed, arms continually crossed as if to protect herself or hold herself in… maybe keep herself from falling even more apart. Taylor didn't know. She didn't dwell on it. Ryan looked much better than he had before. He even had some color to his cheeks, and he was smiling the cutest half smile at her. She found herself smiling back.

He was her boyfriend. The more she talked to him, the more she felt this was a boy she could have potentially had a thing for. No question. But it wasn't fair to him or her right now to feel anything. She had no past after all and that meant no future until she found what she had lost.

He was her _boyfriend_… boyfriend. That word kept rolling over and over in her head. _Boyfriend… boyfriend._ What did that mean exactly? She had no idea what stage their relationship had been on. Where they just getting to know each other? Seriously dating? Bed buddies? ---

_Bed buddies!?! "Oh Dear Lord" _Taylor quickly thought to herself, causing her to almost hyperventilate. She caught herself, she hoped, before he noticed anything, but..... What if he had seen her naked? What if she wasn't good in bed? Or worse… what if she was some kind of slut? She didn't like the thought of some stranger, even one as Heavenly handsome as Ryan Atwood, seeing her naked, exposed that way, without anything to hide her imperfections. She did take a second to wonder where the poor body image neurosis came from, but didn't think on it long. She had to get out... now. All of the 'what-if's were causing her head to ache again. She ended up cutting the visit incredible short, maybe five minutes tops. She lied and told him that she had some more release papers to sign. Then she hurriedly kissed him on the cheek (all girlfriends did that at whatever stage, right?) and left the room using everything she had to control herself and not to run. Veronica burst to standing when she saw Taylor leaving so abruptly and followed along behind her, trying to talk to her, but Taylor wouldn't answer her. She just kept walking.

On the way, she passed the exact same dark haired boy at before. This time he was carrying a Styrofoam cup in each hand. She allowed herself only a seconds glance before she cemented her head down and hurried passed him. By the time she reached the outside of the hospital, she was almost in a panic. Her first day out of her prison of a room and now that she was, she only longed to be back inside, where it was safe. Just to wait it out until her memories came back... because they were. Now, all she really wanted, though, was peace and solitude of her room at home-- wherever that was.

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Seth came into Ryan's room with two cups of semi-hot coffee and the same confused expression as he found on Ryan. "Hey." he said.

"Hey." Ryan replied, taking the cup offered to him. "You didn't, by chance, see Taylor on your way in did you?"

Seth took a sip and sat in the chair that had been his home away from home. "Yeah actually. Twice in the hall. Didn't talk either time. Just kinda walked by with her head down, maybe a little smile. But, dude, it was like she had no idea who I was, or maybe the bump on her head brought out old bitchy Taylor back. Maybe it made her all snooty again. Her mom was with her."

"Well, Veronica can make anyone bitchy."

Seth couldn't really argue with that. He'd often wondered, no that's a lie, maybe once or twice for maybe thirty second intervals, he wondered what Veronica had done to that girl to make her so... Taylorish. "Did you have a bad morning with Taylor?"

"No. Just -- weird."

"Taylor Townsend. Weird? Now that's a novel concept."

Ryan tilted his head in agreement. It's not like he could deny Taylor's 'quirkiness'. "But she seems weirder than normal, that's all."

"Maybe it was the quake, man. It was pretty traumatic."

"Maybe, I don't know." Ryan stewed it over while drinking another sip of his coffee. "I'll tell you this though. I don't like being stuck in here while she's home all alone with her mom."

"Talk about being thrown into the snake pit."

"Yeah…" Ryan's brows furrowed. "And why didn't she speak to you in the hall? She knows you... she had a thing for you."

Seth shrugged. "No big. I'm used to being ignored."

"Seth--"

"Ryan-- man, I don't know. Ok. '. But I _do_ know that she's fine. You _will_ be fine just as long as you listen to me and big Edna, then you'll be out. After that, you two can go back to whatever weird ass relationship you had before. Just chill."

Ryan stared at his brother, trying hard to think of some way to counter that. He wanted to say, _"But I have to see her, Seth."_ but it didn't work last night and he'd bet all he had that it wouldn't work now. Before he could say anything else, Seth's cell rang. He only talked for a few seconds and when Seth hung up, he was a different shade of pale.

"What is it?" Ryan asked, genuinely concerned.

"Um... that was my Dad. He said him and Mom were coming her to tell us something. He had his low, serious, scary voice."

"Is it the baby?"

"He didn't say, but man, Ryan, this can't be good. He sounded kinda freaked."

"He on his way now?"

"Yeah." Seth answered, sitting his drink down on the table next to him. No longer feeling the need or desire for more caffeine.

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Veronica stepped in front of Taylor, helping her lean against the wall and partially holding her up. "Taylor, are you alright?"

"Yeah, yeah. Fine." Good Lord, she didn't know if she called her Mom, Mother, or Stupid Bitch. GAH! She banged her head back against the wall of the building.

"Taylor, stop it." Veronica reprimanded, wondering if she was going to have to slap her to calm her down. "What is wrong?" it was a rhetorical question. She already knew what was wrong. Taylor had amnesia and Taylor was going to snap, unless she got some help... and luckily 'Mama' was ready to step in.

"Nothing. Nothing. Can we just go?"

"Yeah, sure." She helped Taylor walk to the car and decided this was her first opportunity to plant a seed in her wiped mind. "Taylor, I couldn't help but overhear some of your conversation with Ryan."

"Really?"

"Yeah, look I didn't mean too. You know I wouldn't, but still. It sounded... uncomfortable."

"It was." Taylor confided.

"Well, no wonder it was that way, Sweetie. I mean, you two _did_ break up."

Taylor stopped, causing Veronica to as well. Her arm was draped around Veronica's, almost like a drunk being carried out of a bar. "We broke up?"

"Well, yes Taylor. Don't you remember? There was a huge blow out. You said you hated him and never wanted to see him again." Veronica knew if she questioned if she remembered that she's win every time. There was no way Taylor would admit to not remembering.

"Of course I remember." Taylor scoffed. "But he's been so nice--"

"Guilt." her mom answered quickly. "He feels guilty for you being hurt and that's it. It will pass."

The fact that they had broken up definitely put a damper on her mood. She started walking again, this time without her mother's assistance, and followed her to the car. So Ryan wasn't really her boyfriend after all? The one memory she had of him 'before', the kiss, was before the big break-up? Could they really go from _that_ to no longer seeing each other?

Veronica saw her daughter's reaction as a good sign.

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About fifteen minutes after the call, the door opened and in walked Sandy and Kirsten. They still had on the clothes they had left in the night before. Both had forced smiles on their faces, and both boys could see how red Kirsten's eyes had been, presumably from crying.

"Mom?" Seth asked, fearing the worst.

"Is it the baby?" Ryan said what they were both thinking.

"Oh, no. No. Boys. Your sister is fine. I'm so sorry to make you worry about her." Kirsten walked closer to them, wringing her hands as she answered.

"Then what?" asked Seth.

Kirsten looked back at Sandy who finally spoke up. "Boys, let me just say, it could have definitely been worse. And we know that. We could have lost all three of you, four," he corrected looking into Kirsten's eyes," in the fire and that's not something we ever want to think about."

"But--- come on Dad."

"The house didn't survive the earthquake. I mean the outside of the old girl is fine, at least the front side. The other... a disaster. It's lucky we weren't home."

"It will take a while to rebuild." Kirsten added with no doubt in her words that they _would_ rebuild. "But until then, Julie said we could stay with them at Dr. Roberts' house."

"Well that should be interesting." Seth laughed sarcastically.

"Whatever you guys need." Ryan added, shooting Seth an evil eye. The irony of it all didn't escape him though. He was moving into Taylor's old house just as she was moving back into her mother's... things were definitely getting weirder and weirder. And then there was the house. He allowed himself to reflect on the house. It had been his first real 'home'. He would miss his pool house, all of his memories. The first time he met Seth (what a day that was). The first Sandy Cohen lecture which made him really felt like part of the family. All the parties. Theresa, Lindsay. Marissa. Trey. Some memories he wished he could forget. The good and the bad, it was all connected with that house... and now it was gone.

But he knew Kirsten was right. It was just a house after all. Everyone he loved was relatively healthy. He'd moved before, and he's probably move again. And they would rebuild. But the thought of living with Julie Cooper sent shivers down his spine. He hadn't been in too close contact with her since the whole Volchok thing and, honestly, he didn't have very good memories of that place. It was where Marissa had stayed before she died, and it was where he'd almost lost Taylor.

But none of that mattered because it was whatever Kirsten and his family needed. He wasn't about to pull a Seth and have it all be about him.

"Ryan? You ok?" Kirsten asked when she noticed Ryan was zoned out.

"Yeah," he smiled at her, hoping it met his eyes. "Fine. Just thinking."

"I've done a lot of that lately." Kirsten patted him on the leg and then turned to her chair bound son. "Come on Seth. Since we can't get in the house, we need to go shopping for some clothes for you and Ryan."

"Shopping?"

"Up." she demanded.

Seth looked to his father for help, but Sandy simply added, "I'll stay here with Ryan." to which Seth groaned and got up from his seat.

"You don't have to stay with me, Sandy. I don't need a babysitter."

Sandy laughed. "Oh, Ryan... I could always get Edna."

Ryan thought a second. "OK, have a good trip you two." He waved good-bye to them, knowing he was yet again defeated by the dreaded Edna card.

Seth turned back to his brother devilishly, the old Seth coming out. "Don't worry bro. I've got your back. My blood is now in your veins, and that, my friend, means I know what you like."

"Oh dear Lo--"

"Now, hear me out before you go calling upon divine intervention. Our cool new psychic connection is telling me....." he closed his eyes and listened for a hum which of course wasn't there. "Yes. I shall pick you out something _awesome."_

"Uh."

"Oh no, this is two syllable worthy, my friend. I'm feeling inspired. I'm going to give you... Old Atwood chic. Yeah... yeah. I see it. I shall pick out about a dozen white wife beaters and one button up black shirt… or was it the other way around?"

Ryan really didn't have anything to say to him. He just glared. Knowing that it really didn't matter what he said... Seth would just keep on talking. It was kinda comforting, in a crazy, annoying way. Seth would always be Seth. "… and a wrist cuff!"

"Seth lets go." Kirsten turned her son toward the door, but of course, that didn't shut him up. "Or, hey, remember the choker? You _rocked_ that bad boy."

"Bye guys." Kirsten smiled an apologetic smile to her other son and waved. "Control him, please." Ryan waved back. "I'll do my best." she answered before she pushed Seth through the door and shut it behind her.

When they were alone, Sandy pulled up a chair next to his bed. Ryan noticed how tired Sandy looked. He still had on the same black slacks and blue button-up he had on before. Ryan wished there was something he could do for the man who had always done more than enough for him. "So, kid. How ya feeling?"

"Ready to get out of here." Ryan answered, lying back in his bed, careful not to lie that one certain way that killed his back.

"Yeah, well, maybe tomorrow, as long as you're good."

"I'll be good." Ryan smiled back.

Sandy waited a beat, not knowing exactly how to start this part of the conversation. "So, has Taylor been to see you?"

"Yeah, she came in before she left."

"And?"

"What?"

"How did she seem to you?" Sandy cocked his eyebrows.

"Why?" Ryan didn't like where this was going. Sure he had his own suspicions, but they were just that, suspicions, unless someone else had them too... then they were scary suspicions bordering on truth.

"Well--" Sandy spent the rest of the time telling Ryan about his visit with Taylor and some of the suspicions he had about her. Ryan added his own as well. At the end of the talk, they had agreed on one thing. Something definitely wasn't right with Taylor.

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**I promise Ryan will get out of the hospital... eventually ;)**


	8. The Means to an End

_A/N: My impression of this chapter is that you will either love it... or hate it. I'm hoping for the love myself. Thanks to Tib for being the beta for this (even over Thanksgiving :)). _

_Disclaimer: I don't own any of these people/shows/characters or anything else written about in this story. _

Chapter 8: The Means to an End

By 11 am, Veronica and Taylor were in the car on their way home. Figuring Taylor was sick of hospital food, and knowing there really wasn't anything to eat at home, she stopped at a drive-thru at some restaurant Taylor didn't recognize. Veronica ordered then asked her daughter what she wanted. Taylor, not wanting her mother to know that she really didn't know what she normally got, decided to just play it safe and get what her mother ordered. It turned out to be a mistake, though, as when they arrived home she found that smallest portion of food she figured had ever been made on God's green Earth. Obviously her mom was very weight conscious-- strangely that made her feel self-conscious. She politely took her food and excused herself to her room, telling her mom that she was tired and needed to lie down.

Of course, she had no idea where her room was which was kinda difficult, but she didn't want to dwell on it. There were lots of things she didn't know… why should not knowing where her room was freak her out now? So, instead of panicking, she decided to explore the house. She had to admit, it was beautiful. The kitchen was just off the foyer which held, at its center, a huge, marble-like staircase with what looked to be rot-iron banisters. At the top, the stairs forked in either direction and each went up another landing. There were two stories to the house and plenty of rooms. At the bottom of the staircase, were Taylor stood, you could go two ways. The left went back to the kitchen she remembered, and the other, well, that was anyone's guess. She walked through a large, rounded door and found herself in a rather large living room area... not that it really looked lived in. A larger than needed mantle surrounded an antique looking fireplace at the end of the room. An open door to the side of the fireplace piqued her interest. It led to a hall.

The entire house seemed to be decorated in warm yellows, soft whites, and light browns, with an occasional sprinkle of a bold hue here and there. She had to admit that it was very beautiful, but one thing stood out, and it bothered her. There were no pictures of her anywhere... in fact there were no family pictures at all. Just paintings of flowers, fruits, fields, a jumbled mess of color. Taylor thought the lack of personal pictures was really sad.

She kept exploring, mindlessly picking at whatever it was in her take-out box. The house had an unusual flow. From the foyer was the living room- then to the very long hall with several doors. She wondered which one was her room and why a house with only 2 people in it needed SO much space.

For her part, Veronica knew, or figured, that Taylor wouldn't know her surroundings. She had counted on it, but she had wanted to watch her daughter. See if anything lit a bulb in her head... praying that it didn't. When she noticed that Taylor looked utterly confused, she decided to go rescue her. "Taylor." she called out, coming down the long hall opposite of her daughter. "Are you ok?"

The girl jumped like she had been shot... or like she'd been caught with her hand in the cookie jar. "Yeah, of course." she laughed nervously. "I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be?"

"I didn't mean to scare you."

"You didn't." Taylor winced at how her own voice was shaky, obviously giving her away. They stood there, staring at each other for what seemed like an eternity. "Well," Taylor finally spoke. "I guess I'll be going to my room now." She pointed back behind her, turned her back to her mother, and with a sigh, walked away.

"Uh, Taylor. Your room is this way." Veronica pointed behind her shoulder.

Taylor's stomach tightened. This was not going well for her. Her face blushed and she hurried to find some kind of excuse... so she did the only thing she could do... she stammered. "Yeah, yeah. I know Mom. Just checking earthquake damage, that's all." She knocked on the wall. "Oh look. Still standing. Perfect. I'll just go now."

This time she walked passed her mother. "I know." her mother called when she was passed. Taylor froze. _Oh God!_ She thought, wincing. "Know? You know what?" Taylor was afraid to face her. She couldn't deal with this right now.

Veronica inwardly smiled, but outwardly kept a calm, somber expression. No sense in her knowing she was delighted that she had no memory of the Atwood boy. "I know about you and Ryan breaking up. I'm sorry. I know how hard it must be on you."

Taylor snapped around to her mother so fast the room spun. Stupid head injury. "Ryan and I...."

Veronica walked to her and rubbed her shoulders 'concerned'. ".. Broke up. Why yes, baby. You had a huge fight the day of the earthquake. You called me sobbing, saying you broke with him... something about not getting over Marissa." _Who the hell was Marissa!?! _"That you couldn't love a man who was in love with a ghost." _A ghost? Marissa's a ghost... Marissa's dead?_ The name rang no bell for her, but the thought of her and Ryan broken up made her chest tighten in a way she hadn't expected.

Veronica went on, elaborating the lie, "I thought maybe you'd fixed things since the quake, but I overheard him telling Seth that he felt guilty and that's all. He felt guilty that he couldn't save you, just like he couldn't save Marissa, and that's why he was being nice to you now. It's a phase, baby. Soon he'll get over how bad he feels and he'll move on... or rather back, to pining over the dead girl. You look sick, Taylor. Don't you remember any of this?" And there it was… the phrase that Veronica _knew_ would cause her daughter to agree with anything she said. There was no way that Taylor would want her to know that she had amnesia. That was Veronica's ace in the hole... her means to an end.

"Of course I remember." Taylor spat. "Now, please excuse me. I'm tired and have had a long day. I want to lie down."

"Of course." Veronica nodded, placing her hand on Taylor's back soothingly. Sometimes it was hard doing the 'right thing' by your child. No mother wanted to see their child hurt, but all wanted what was best, and being without Ryan Atwood definitely was for the best. This time Veronica led Taylor to her room and kissed her lightly on the forehead. She told her if she needed anything to call. Then she left her to her thoughts,, knowing she'd do everything she could to keep her from the truth.

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"She's going to take advantage of her." Ryan complained as Seth accompanied him around the park-like exterior of the hospital. Ryan was still required to be in a wheelchair, but allowed to put on 'civilian' clothes for the outing. The clothes he'd arrived at the hospital in were ruined, thick with rain and blood. He thought someone had mercifully thrown them away. Thankfully, or not, Seth had came to the rescue with some clothes from the shopping spree. Ryan wore a pair of loose fitting denim jeans (tight ones hurt his back injury), a pristine, crisp, brand-new, white 'wife beater' and a black-button up shirt (just as Seth had promised) that Ryan rolled the sleeves up on. He'd refused the wrist cuff Seth offered.

"She's not going to take advantage of her." Seth answered. Ryan glared. "Ok, she might. But there's really nothing you can do about it, bud, while you're locked up in here." He said it like Ryan hadn't thought of it before. It was all he _could_ think about.

He stopped pushing himself. It took a second from Seth to figure out that his friend wasn't motoring beside of him. He turned around and walked back. Ryan had a look in his eye that Seth just really didn't like. "I may not be able to do anything... but you can."

"Can… what... no." Seth stammered.

"Yeah. Yeah. Seth. Look. Go to Taylor's house...."

"With Lex Townsend?"

"... Talk to Taylor for me. Or---"

Seth raised an eyebrow, _really_ not liking where this was going. "Or what?"

"Give her a letter for me."

Seth rolled his eyes. "So, now I'm your personal UPS?"

"Please, Seth... for me." Seth hated with Ryan gave him that pitiful, pleading look. Drove him crazy. "Ok. Ok. Fine. But an operation like this requires stealth, planning--"

"All of which you're good at." Ryan cheered him on, even though he knew it wasn't true. Seth and stealth were like him and heights. They didn't mesh.

"...I shall depend on my intense ninja training to help me conquer most certain peril."

"And Veronica Townsend can't see you."

"That's what I said." Seth replied, sounding a little deflated.

"Yeah. Anyway." Ryan sat up and pulled a note from his back pocket. "Here."

"You already wrote it?!" Seth asked surprised, snatching the paper from his hand. "You had this planned?"

Ryan shrugged but couldn't help smirking the slightest bit.

"How'd you know I'd say yes?"

"I knew you could never resist me." he raised his eyebrow and looked at him with a smirk.

"Dammit." Seth hung his head and walked away. "I've become Ryan Atwood's bitch."

"Just make sure she's ok." Ryan yelled to Seth as he walked away. All he got in response was a grumble and maybe the flip of a certain finger. He didn't care though. He knew Seth would do this for him. He had his back. He sat in the fading sunshine, watching his closest friend walk away, hoping he wouldn't screw this up.

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Taylor had spied every inch of her room for some clues to who she was... who she had been. She hadn't had much luck. Her walls were practically bare except for a plaque naming her Valedictorian of Harbor and a few other academic odds and ends. Taylor knew that either she had been a very boring person, or someone (i.e. her mom) had been in her room picking and choosing what she wanted her to see. She opted not to lean either way. It didn't really matter anyway. She would just focus on what she knew. She had been first in her class, so that meant that she was smart. Smart was good. She had a few trophies. A few other awards sprinkled around the room – nothing helpful.

And just like in the rest of the house, she noticed that there were no pictures. None of her and Ryan – none of her and anyone really. Why wouldn't she have pictures of people, friends? Unless she didn't have any.

It was so frustrating. She felt like a thief or a snoop or even a perv, looking through someone else's life. None of it meant much to her.

She looked in her closet to find it full of clothes; all looked new, probably designer from what she could tell.

As she searched, she finally found one picture. It was in a silver frame on her nightstand. It was a picture of her and her mom from graduation. In the picture, she had on a maroon cap and gown with a massive smile plastered on her face. Her mom's smile matched. She picked up the picture and clutched it to her chest. She sat down on her bed and slowly laid back. When her head hit her pillow, she pulled the picture out to where she could see it again. The girl in the picture, her, Taylor, looked so confident, so sure of herself. That girl knew where she was going. Knew who she was. A tear escaped down her cheek. She felt sorry for that girl in the photograph who had it all, who had her entire future in front of her, with no idea that it would all end with her trapped a hollow shell.

She crawled under her covers, held the picture tight to her chest, and slowly fell asleep.

It was dark when a shuffling noise woke her up. Not knowing the room well, she quickly rolled over and felt for a lamp. When the light came on, and her eyes adjusted, she saw a tall, dark figure of a man looming next to her bed. She freaked and started to scream. A hand clamped down over her mouth preventing any sound to escape. She kicked and hit, fighting him off. He was saying something to her, but she wasn't paying attention. His hand shifted slightly, giving her an edge. She moved her head and bit him.

"OWWW!" she heard him say in a muted tone. He was up beside her bed, hopping and making weird faces in pain. Good, she thought. "What are you doing, Taylor?!?" he said through clear agony. Then held up a finger, pleading with her not to scream. "Look, don't scream. It's okay. It's me, Seth."

Like that made her feel any better. She didn't know any Seth.... except the Seth Ryan mentioned last night on the phone, but it couldn't be............. "What are you doing here?"

"Ryan sent me." _Yep_, _same Seth._

"Well, why did you sneak up on me?" She admonished, adjusting her comforter to cover her top more when she realized that all she had on was a black t-shirt sans a bra and barely there short shorts. Underneath the sheets, she held the picture of her and her mom like a weapon, not knowing how much she should trust this 'Seth' guy. She looked at the clock on her nightstand. It was a little after 3am.

"Ryan sent you?" she questioned. "Yeah, I doubt that."

"Why?" he asked, checking his hand for bite marks. And there they were. Red and bleeding. Ryan owed him big!

"Well, for starters... we're broken up." she replied, remembering what her mom told her before.

Seth stared at her, his eyes furrowed. "Well, if you are, it's news to him. He sent me here with this." he reached in his jacket pocket and retrieved the letter. She hesitated before she took it. "Why didn't Ryan come himself?"

"He doesn't get out of the hospital until tomorrow. Apparently, I'm his bitch now."

She stared. "But not really because – eww – he's like my brother and, you know... Eww--"

"So Ryan's okay?" her thoughts went back to two nights before when had been sitting on her bed, when the stitches broke. Her nearly empty stomach protested against that image and she made herself think of something else.

Seth nodded. "He's ok. Just a little stir crazy. Why would you think you guys broke up?"

Taylor tried to brush it off, but it wasn't hard to see that something wasn't right here. "Oh, just a dream I guess."

"Are you ok?"

"Sure. Fine. Why does everyone keep asking me that?"

"Nothing." Seth answered, knowing that something was. He was starting to get a pretty good idea what it was, but he wasn't going to push it. Not yet anyway.

There was an awkward silence so Taylor decided to break it, "Ok, so tell Ryan that I'm fine."

"So I keep hearing." he scoffed. "Ok then. Good deed done. Minor injuries. Maybe I'll live. I'll go now. Don't want your evil mom on my scent."

She laughed despite herself. "How did you get past her anyway?"

He smiled devilishly. "I used the force young one." He noticed right away that she didn't get the reference. It was something he _knew_ she knew. "The window... I used the window." he clarified.

"Oh." she said. "Ok then. Well, thanks for the letter."

"No problem." He knew he probably should have stayed, but he figured she would more than likely want to be alone to read the note. He said his good nights and went back out the window.

Taylor opened the letter and began to read.

_"Taylor,_

_Sorry I'm not there for you right now, but I will be soon. I promise. I'll protect you from Veronica better than I protected you in the earthquake. You have no idea how sorry I am about that. Get some rest. I'll see you tomorrow._

_Ryan"_

Definitely not a letter one sent to an ex, earthquake or not, guilt or not. She folded the letter up again and held it to her chest, replacing the picture of her and her mom there. Veronica had lied, that was apparent. If she lied about Ryan, then what other things could she have lied about, manipulated her about. She pulled her knees to her chest and began to bawl.

Seth wasn't two steps outside of her window when he heard the first painful sounds of heartbreaking sobs. He knew Ryan was no Shakespeare so he figured it wasn't want he wrote, but something else bothering her. He wanted to walk away. He'd done his good deed and wanted to just disappear back to his video games and the Captain.

But he was too much of a Cohen to do that.

He lightly rapped twice on her windowsill letting her know he was coming back in so he wouldn't scare her again. "What are you doing back?" she snapped, her face a deep shade of red at being caught being so vulnerable.

"I don't really know." it was an honest answer. "I heard you crying and I – just – couldn't leave."

She scoffed. "You've never heard a girl crying before?"

"Not Taylor Townsend. Taylor Townsend doesn't cry."

To his surprise, she laughed at that-- like someone on TV who just found out they had a long lost twin or something. "What?" he asked.

She shook her head, waving him off. "Nothing. Nothing. It's just... so tell me. What else doesn't Taylor Townsend do?"

"You tell me." he challenged.

"I can't"

He knew it. "Why?" he pushed.

"Because I can't remember!" Once it came out, she clamped her hands over her mouth, her eyes wide, wishing she could take the words back. She couldn't believe she had said it. It was scary and strangely liberating at the same time, but not liberating enough for her to want tell anyone else. "You can _not_ tell anyone." her words were somewhere between a plea and a warning.

Seth placed his hands in his pockets, not really sure how to handle the situation. "Ryan-- look, he knows something is going on with you."

"But not this."

"He has to know."

"No!" it came out much louder than she meant. Again, she covered her mouth and prayed that her mom hadn't heard. To her relief (and Seth's too) Veronica never showed up. "You can't tell anyone, Seth, especially not Ryan." she whispered.

"Taylor--"

"Cohen!" _Whoa, she remembered something. Cohen_, Summer called Seth "Cohen". Summer was the pretty brunette she... she... God, she couldn't remember the rest.

"Did you just remember something?" he asked.

"Yeah, I'm...I'm, yeah. Nothing really important, just that your last name is Cohen."

"Very valuable information." Seth agreed, not really, but what else was he going to say? "Anyway, I think Ryan is the least of your worries."

"What do you mean?"

"Come on Taylor. You are a smart girl. Do you really think that Veronica would have told you that you and Ryan had broken up if she thought you'd remember that you didn't?"

It wasn't like she hadn't thought it before, but hearing him say it made it worse. If it were true, then her worst fear, that someone would use her condition to manipulate her, had come true. And it had been her own mother.

Seth went on. "And if she lied about Ryan, then there is no telling what else she lied about, right. We need to get you out of here and to Ryan--"

All of this was making her head hurt and spin again. "He's in the hospital." she reminded him.

"Then come to Julie's with me. Dad will fix--"

"I don't know you!" she scared herself with the fierceness in her voice, the hurt. It was the hurt that she hoped he didn't hear. She consciously toned herself down. "I mean, thank you, Seth, for the offer. But I can't. I need to figure things out for myself. Please... Please just leave me alone."

He didn't want to give in, but ultimately did with the stipulation that if she needed _anything _that she'd call. To prove how serious he was, he left Julie's home number, his Dad's cell number, his Mom's cell number, as well as Summer's, his, and with much trepidation, Ryan's cell and hospital number. The last thing Seth wanted was Ryan up and around, hurting himself coming to 'save' her, but he knew Ryan would kill him if he didn't. He valued life.

Taylor took the numbers and bid him a good night. She watched as finally, and thankfully, he left.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Ryan tapped the up button on the remote rhythmically. Nothing was on that he cared about seeing, but he couldn't sleep. He kept thinking about Taylor, running things over and over in his mind. He wanted to figure out what was up with her, but he hadn't been able to put his finger on it. He hoped some mind numbing television would do the trick. Give him some perspective.

The channels just kept changing.

_How to make a million dollars rubbing a blue dot_

_Proactive commercial with Jessica Simpson_

_Tony Little_

_The "I see dead people." movie._

_The Valley on TSC (The Soap Channel)_

He was about to click again when the storyline caught his eye. The blonde girl, he believed Seth said one time her name was April, was laying in the hospital with a bandage around her head (an unfortunate sex injury from what he could gather), but that's not what made him stop and watch. There was a man in the room with her, the one that they'd met in LA (the one that acted like Seth). Anyway, the girl was acting (poorly acting), like she recognized him, but the man knew. The man had figured it out. Dramatic music played as the camera showed a close-up of the man's mouth as he said, _"Amnesia."_

"Oh hell." Ryan sat up without thinking, winced while ripping the IV out of his arm, and started putting on the clothes he'd worn outside.

_Amnesia_.

The word hung in the air like a thick fog. Taylor had amnesia. It all made sense. He felt like the biggest idiot for not figuring it out before... for having the watch _The Valley_ of all things to make it click in his head. But the how and the why didn't matter now. He had to get to her. To help her.

He successfully snuck passed Edna and the one other lady at the nurse's station. Once outside the hospital, he used his cell to call for a taxi. He impatiently paced around the parking lot, waiting for it to take him to Taylor's.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Taylor waited about 10 minutes after Seth left, just to make sure he'd really gone this time. Once she was certain, she turned the bedside light back on and climbed out of bed. She dressed in the clothes she'd worn home, packed a few things in a bag, and made her exit through her window like she had seen Seth do.

She couldn't stay there any more, not with everyone knowing more about her than she did, some even trying to take advantage of her. She couldn't stay and she didn't care where she went-- just as long as it was away from Newport Beach.


	9. Gone, Baby, Gone

_A/N: This is a short chapter. I decided to cut a chapter in two. I didn't have a lot of time to type this weekend, and I really wanted to update. I hope it's ok (fingers crossed)._

_Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters._

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Chapter 9: Gone, Baby, Gone

The cab traveled along the streets heading toward the Townsend house. Ryan sat impatiently in the back, nervously tapping his fingers on his knees, watching the light from the streetlamps rhythmically illuminate the interior of the cab.

It was just after 4 am.

When his cell rang, he almost didn't answer it for fear it was the Cohens tracking him down and wanting him to go back to the hospital (something he didn't intend to do). Despite that brief hesitation, he took the phone from his pocket and looked at the ID. It was Seth.

"What?" was his greeting.

"Yeah, hey man. Look, I just left Taylor's a few minutes ago. I know why she's been weird-er, lately..."

"I know-" Ryan cut him off. "She has amnesia."

"What the hell, Ryan?" he huffed. "How do you know?"

Despite the pull he felt to quickly get to Taylor, he did feel his cheeks flush at the thought of watching The Valley, and vowed Seth couldn't, _wouldn't,_ ever know. "I'm not stupid." he said, even though he totally felt it. "I just thought about – never mind – it doesn't matter."

"Look, I'm heading back to the hospital now so we can figure this out."

"Don't bother. I'm not there."

Ryan heard Seth's breath catch. When he finally did speak, his tone was darker than he had ever heard from is brother. If he had taken a chance to really think about it, it would have scared him. As it was, he just heard, "What did you do, Ryan?"

"I've gotta go, Seth."

"No wait!" Seth called. The urgency of his brother pulled his hand back to his ear. "Seth, I'm not going back."

"Ok, I get it. Fine, whatever." he didn't mean it, but what did it matter now? "But there is something you need to know."

"What?"

"Taylor's mom knows about her-- condition. She's been using it-- to lie to her."

From the rear view mirror, the cabdriver saw Ryan's eyes flash red. He wanted to ask what was going on, but knew it was none of his business and really didn't want to mess with the boy in the back. He felt bad for the person who had ticked him off as badly as he was. "Lying to her how?" Ryan asked through clinched teeth.

Seth recognized the scary 'Atwood' tone and hesitated to tell him more. "You have to promise me that you won't do anything stupid."

"Seth."

"Fine!" Veronica probably deserved whatever Ryan dished out to her anyway. "Taylor's mom told her that you two had broken up-- among other things."

"And she believed her?"

"Dude, she doesn't know what to believe. She was confused-- crying--"

"She was crying." Ryan cut in. He hated seeing or hearing about a woman crying. He'd seen his fair share of it between Dawn, Marissa, even Kirsten at times, it was the worst feeling in the world, and what made it worse with Taylor was that she was crying because of him. Because he couldn't protect her during the earthquake. Because he couldn't protect her then and he couldn't protect her from Veronica's lies. She'd hurt Taylor and that was something he was not about to let go.

He removed the phone from his ear. He didn't hear Seth calling his name on the other end, and hung up before he could hear his warning of, "Don't do anything stupid!"

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It took everything he had not to kick the damn door down and run to Taylor's room – to hell with Veronica. He squelched that urge and instead banged as hard as he could on the opulently decorated door. Veronica Townsend's house was a magnificent structure with lots of windows and lots of old world architecture. It reminded him of the house Marissa used to live in when her mom was married to Caleb Nichol.

None of that mattered right at the moment, though. His hand beat harder on the door, the impacts causing his back injury to scream. The pain irritated him more, making him take more of it out on the defenseless door, which was taking quite a beating.

Just when the first flecks of blood spattered from his fist onto the door, it opened. Veronica stood there, pulling her robe tightly around herself, her eyes blazing fire. "What do you think you are doing?"

"Get out of my way." he started to pass her, but she shifted in front of her.

"Over my dead body." she countered.

"Don't tempt me." his voice was cold, stoic.

Her mouth gaped open. "Are you _threatening_ me?"

He took a breath, backed away, and dropped his shaking fists in his pockets. He had to calm himself, take a second to cool off before he did something he'd (most likely... someday) regret. "Where's Taylor?" he asked, this time his voice was strained, barely above a whisper.

"Where do you think, idiot?" she spat. "In her room. Sleeping." she waved her hand around outside in the dark as if her sleeping should have been obvious, it being dark and all.

When her unwelcomed visitor didn't respond in any way, shape, or form, she rolled her eyes in annoyance and began to shut the door. At the last second before it clasped, he raised his hand and shoved it open with all he had causing her to stagger back. He took the opportunity to rush past her. He'd never been to that house before, had no idea where Taylor's room was, but he wasn't about to stop until he found it.

_He vaguely heard Veronica screaming at him (over his own yelling Taylor's name) that she was going to call the police. It was possibly the fifth or sixth door he tried, but once opened, it was obvious it was Taylor's room-- and from the open window and lack of the person herself, it was also obvious that she was gone. Ryan searched the room for a note, a clue, anything, but came up empty. There was nothing but an unmade bed and a broken picture frame with a waded up picture of her and her mother lying discarded next to it on the floor._

_"... boy trespassing in my house."_ Ryan heard Veronica stomping down the hall toward him- no doubt on the phone with the cops about her 'trespasser'. He stopped her as soon as she entered the room. "She's not here."

"What? Of course she's..." Veronica removed the phone from her ear and began searching the room, cautiously at first then turning frantic. "She's not here, Veronica."

"Stop saying that!" she demanded. "What did you do with her?"

"Me? Nothing. She was gone when I got here."

"And I'm just supposed to believe--"

"Believe whatever the hell you want? I'm going to go find her." when he was almost to the door, she yelled at him, "This is all your FAULT!"

He froze and surprised himself by how slowly he turned to face the evil woman. "My fault? My fault?!"

"Yes, your fault, you stupid boy!" Veronica forgot all about the 911 operator on the other end of the line-- who had already dispatched a car to the Townsend residence.

"The hell it is. Who lied to her? Who was trying to brainwash her?"

"I was giving her a better life!" she yelled back, wiping away the stupid tear that dared fall down her cheek.

"A better life." he scoffed.

"Yes. One where she would go to college. Have a good, solid future. Not dwell on her disastrous past at Harbor, her farce of a French husband-- and you." Veronica had to breathe, had to calm down. She leaned on Taylor's dresser for support. When she spoke next, her words weren't so sour. "She had no past. I was giving her a future. What would you want, Ryan?" Her eyes pierced his, not with anger, but with total and complete-- worry would be the only word for it. Yeah, he hated seeing a woman cry. He felt her pain, but said nothing. There was nothing he could say so she, instead, went on. "I know about you, about your home life in Chino. What if you had the chance to forget it all? Forget all about your drunk of a mother, your dickhead of a father, all of your mistakes and just start over? Wouldn't you want that?"

"No." he answered quickly, but something in his voice told her it wasn't a definitive answer.

"Ok, then." she straightened and wiped away her streaming tears, promising herself that she wouldn't fall apart on him again. He wasn't worth it. "I know that you got a girl pregnant a few years ago." He flinched when she said that. Of course she knew, everyone knew. She went on. "If that baby had of lived and you could have done everything in your power to give him or her a better life, to make a better future, wouldn't you do it?"

He took some time before answering, considering the possibilities. "I would never manipulate my child-- no matter the reason." his mind again fell to Taylor and his anger with Veronica began to rise again. "You may think your motives were justifiable, but they weren't. You can't mess with people's lives like that. It's not right. Your lies caused her to run away to God knows where."

They heard sirens coming from the distance. "I'm going to find her. Tell the cops about Taylor and forget about me. Do something good for once."

He left her standing there, hoping he had enough time to run from the house before the cops showed up to arrest him, racking his brain to try to pinpoint exactly where a Taylor with amnesia would go.


	10. The Goodbye

_A/N: Thanks so much to all of you who reviewed the last chapter and those who sent PMs wanting an update :) This would have been up sooner, but Christmas came and I was busy (sorry excuse I know LOL). This is not a very long chapter._

_Disclaimer: I don't own these characters. _

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**Chapter 10: The Good-bye**

Taylor sat herself down in the faded blue chair at the furthermost corner of the bus station and held her breath. She was terrified that someone had followed her and would try to keep her from leaving. Fearfully, she kept a steely eye on the door, watching for her mom or Seth... Ryan... or even the police. Someone. Anyone.

After about five minutes, she felt herself slowly relaxing. Maybe she was home free after all.

_Home. What a sorry place her 'home' had turned out to be._

If that horrible woman really was her mother, she wondered just how truly screwed up she was--had been--is-- _Who am I kidding? _she thought. _A person with full blown amnesia was pretty messed up anyway. _And truthfully, if everyone was like her mother, maybe she didn't want to remember. She had a feeling she was more a socially outcast geek than the prom queen anyway. Maybe it would be better go to go LA. Start over. Make friends. The only problem was that nagging image she couldn't get out of her head. The image of a kiss that was both chaste and passionate. And despite herself, she felt longing for the boy who had kissed her so tenderly, tapped her nose so playfully, and stole her heart so completely.

"Ug! Snap out of it Taylor!" she berated herself. Frustrated, she placed her head in her hands and her elbows on her knees. "Get a grip. It was one kiss who knows how long ago. It may mean nothing to him now."

Absentmindedly, she stuck her hand in her jacket pocket. The letter Ryan had sent her rested beside her bus ticket. She had purchased the ticket for the 6:30 am bus to Los Angeles. She looked down at her watch. It was 6:21.

She had that one memory of Ryan. She knew that had to be enough. But one thing wasn't. She searched her bag and pulled out her cell phone. There was something she had to do.

"Hello." The phone was answered on the second ring. "Taylor?"

"Mother." she answered coolly, fighting the urge to scream a stream of curses over the line.

"Oh thank God. I've been so worried--"

"Save it." Taylor spat venomously. An old shaggy man- her only companion in the station- looked up from his magazine curiously. Taylor didn't have the time or energy to notice him. "Look, I just called to tell you that you will never see me again. Ever. Even if I get my memory back, I'll never come back to you-- you horrible _bitch_."

"You don't mean that."

"Oh don't I? Actually, it's the only thing I'm 100% sure of. After what you did to me--"

"I was trying to protect you!"

"You were trying to control me!"

"Taylor, listen--"

"No. No more. I'm tired of you trying to use me. I don't remember you, and I don't care too. If you were like this to me now, I shudder to think what you did to me before. You'll never hear from me again."

Taylor could feel the heat radiating from the other side of the line. "Taylor Townsend! You ungrateful fool! You have no idea what I've done for you! I am your mother! You do _not_ speak to me that way." her words came out in a furry.

"I don't have a mother." Taylor's words were so calm it scared her. How bad did it have to be to be relieved to denounce your own mother and feel no remorse about it?

"_Bus 2526, Newport Beach to Los Angeles - Now boarding"_ was heard over the intercom.

"You're at the bus station?"

"Good-bye, mother." She hung up the phone even as she heard the faint sounds of Veronica's angry protests. She was officially done with her mother. Strangely, she felt a weight lifting off her shoulders. She looked at her watch. 6:26. The bus was early.

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It was times like this when Ryan really wished the Rover hadn't been destroyed in the earthquake. As it was, while he was running from the police Veronica had called on him, he had to call Sandy. Sandy was none to happy with the stunt Ryan had pulled at the hospital, but after he filled him in on the details, Sandy agreed to help.

It wasn't like either knew where to look, though. When Taylor was 'together' she was unpredictable at best. But with amnesia, it was anybody's game.

Ryan's cell rang while he and Sandy were heading toward the airport. It was Veronica. "She just called. She's at the bus station. I think she's heading to LA. Get her and bring her back or you'll be sorry you ever met me." she warned. She _hated_ herself for stooping so low as to call that urchin for help, but knew if anyone could get her daughter back; it (unfortunately) was him. The police would just scare her off.

"I'm already sorry I met you." he mumbled while shutting his phone. "She's at the bus station." he told Sandy. "We need to hurry."

The digital read out on the dash said 6:28. Feeling like he was running low on options, he opened his cell back and called her number, praying she would answer this time.

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She looked at the caller ID. Her breath caught when she saw it was him again. She hadn't answered any of his previous calls, but as she exited the building to her waiting bus, it seemed evil to not at least tell him good-bye.

He jumped suddenly when he heard her voice. "Taylor?" he hadn't really expected her to answer.

"Yeah, look. I'm sorry I didn't answer before."

"It's ok. It's fine. Look, I'm on my way to the bus station. Please don't leave without seeing me."

She stopped walking. "Wait, how did you know I was here?"

Wow, he didn't want to answer that. "You're mom called, and Seth confirmed my suspicions about the amnesia."

"So, you're all working together." she sighed under her breath.

"No. No. Nothing like that. Not with Veronica anyway." Words were never his strong suit, now he was stuck with the near impossible task of talking Taylor into staying. Fate was cruel sometimes.

She wanted to believe him, but how could she? One incredible, unforgettable kiss-one perfect memory- a truth teller did not make. When she didn't answer him, he began to panic. "Taylor, please. Just stay there. We can talk. Just don't leave." _me._ "Not like this."

She didn't answer. She didn't know how. Words would not form. She was now feet from the bus.

"Taylor, please." he repeated. His words hung in the air like a dense fog. Why couldn't Sandy drive faster?

Finally, from the other side of the line, came one of the saddest voices he'd ever heard. "Good-bye Ryan."

And that was it. The line went dead. Tears welled up in his eyes, stinging them mercilessly. He refused to let them drop. Instead, he told Sandy to hurry, but he knew they were probably already too late.

It was 6:32.

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	11. The Bus Station

_A/N: I could not believe chapter 10 got so many reviews :) :) You know how to make a girl happy LOL. Anyway, here is chapter 11. Happy New Year!!_

_Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters. If I did, I wouldn't be writing ff about them.. oh who am I kidding? I probably would._

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**Chapter 11: The Bus Station**

By the time Ryan and Sandy reached the bus station, all they could see were the red taillights of a bus driving away. The smallest bit of hope that Ryan had held on to vanished at the sight, and he felt sick to his stomach. Standing in front of the 'Welcome to Newport Beach' sign, he lamented that he really hated that freaking bus station. It was where he had last seen his brother, Trey, and it was where he'd lost Taylor.

For a moment, he couldn't think. He couldn't move. Sandy came up and placed his hand on his shoulder signaling that he wasn't alone. Ryan appreciated the sentiment, but it wasn't enough. "I have to get her." he said.

"I know." He reached in his wallet and handed Ryan some money. "Listen, kid. You're hurt and whether you want to believe it or not, you aren't superhuman. Don't get yourself hurt more. She may be gone, for now... but remember we're here. Your _family_ is here. We want you to come back to us in one piece." He grinned in his special Sandy Cohen way. "Besides, I'm not sure how more blood Seth is willing to donate to you."

Ryan couldn't even smile at that. "I'll be back when I can."

Sandy wanted more of a reassurance but knew it wasn't going to come. "Come on. I'll walk you in."

Upon entering the bus station, they walked toward the ticket counter. If Ryan hadn't had a sixth sense to turn around, he never would have seen her. In the far corner of the building sat a young woman fidgeting nervously. It took a moment for Ryan to fully comprehend who it was. The Taylor he knew was always so prim, proper, and put together. This girl was the total opposite. She wore a pink jogging outfit, black shirt underneath. He recognized them as the same ones she'd worn when visiting him in the hospital. Her hair was pulled back in a simple, slightly messy ponytail. Her normally floppy bangs were held back out of her eyes with a shiny silver barrette.

He wanted to run to her, but held himself back for fear of scaring her off. He felt like he was approaching a wounded animal. Maybe he was.

Ryan didn't say anything. He just cautiously sat beside her, giving her the options of remaining silent or talking. He just wanted her to know that he was there-- no pressure. He felt that little spark of hope light again, but he tried to squash it. There was no telling what would happen between them.

"You know--" she began after a few minutes. "I only have two memories of my life before the earthquake."

He nodded, giving her time to say her peace.

"One is where I remembered calling Seth 'Cohen'."

"That's handy."

She cut her eyes to him, happy that at least someone could find a sliver of humor in all of this. "Isn't it though."

"And two?" he prompted when she stopped talking; a rarity for her.

She looked back down at her hands, but Ryan noticed her face relaxing, a small curve forming on her lips. "And two is a memory I have of you actually. I remember being sad, but I don't know why. I was standing at a bar with some guy speaking French. I don't remember what we were saying. Anyway, the next thing I know my lips were warm and my body was tingling. I opened my eyes and saw you. Your eyes looked so sad, but, still, I felt it. A spark. You tapped me on the nose sweetly. That's all I remember."

She smiled shyly. "I can't get that image or that feeling out of my head." Her face reddened. "It's embarrassing."

"No. No, it's not. Actually, I'm relieved you remember me at all."

"So," she moved around her seat with uneasiness, hating the feeling of constant uncertainty she felt. "What was going on then? Why was I sad? Why were you?"

It was his turn to shift in his seat, obviously unsure how to answer.

"And don't lie to me-- please. My mother had done enough of that for a lifetime."

Ryan understood. It was her life, and she deserved to know the truth about it. "OK. You were sad, I think, because you wanted a divorce from your French husband, and he wouldn't give one to you." He paused, allowing her to absorb the information. "You had a French husband because--"

"--my mother was an emotional terrorist who never said she loved me so I clung to the first person in my life who told me they did."

He sat stunned. "Did you just remember that?"

"Huh?" she shook her head. "No, just seemed like something she would do."

"Well, from what you told me, you're right."

"Am I still married?"

"No. You- we- convinced his lawyer, that's who you were talking to, that we were lovers, which we weren't at the time."

"So-- the kiss?"

"Was our first. Just for show."

"I see." She picked some lint from her pants. At least she knew something about herself now, even if she couldn't remember it. She now wanted to know a little more about Ryan. "And-- why were you sad?"

His jaw automatically clinched, and she realized that maybe she had overstepped some line she didn't even know was there. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean-- to hurt you. I'll go." When she stood, he gently grabbed her hand and guided her back down to her seat next to him. He locked his fingers with hers, trying to let the words form. He'd never really told the story to anyone before. His words came out staggered. "I had lost someone a few months before. She-- died-- in a car accident, well, it wasn't really an accident. We were pushed--" he paused, refusing to think about that bastard Volchok. He took a deep, steadying breath. "It was my fault, at least partially, and I had been barely living, barely functioning ever since. You asked me for my help with your husband and at first I told you no, but I guess I just couldn't stay away."

She placed her other hand on top of their intertwined ones. She could feel his sorrow and wanted to comfort him in whatever small way she could. "I'm sorry-- about your friend."

He shook his head. Enough talking about Marissa. He couldn't deal with all of those memories on top of the possibility of losing Taylor. It wasn't possible. Instead, he looked into her hazel eyes and made himself smile. "We, me and you, had a rocky start. I wasn't ready for a relationship-"

"Because of the girl."

"Because of a lot of reasons. Then when I was, you weren't. Finally, one night, I told you I loved you." His smile went from forced to genuine thinking about how drunk she had been – how cute she'd been. "Then, like always, I blew it. Then I told you again, and the earthquake happened--"

"And I forgot all about you." she said sadly.

He nodded slowly, his heart breaking because he couldn't, he didn't, save her.

"Which puts us here."

"Which puts us here." he echoed, lightly tracing patterns on her knuckles.

It was her turn to look away. Gently, Ryan placed his hand under her chin and tilted it up to him. "I'm just glad you're--- OK. You'll remember your past or you won't. But you're alive and that's all that matters to me."

"It's just not fair. I want to remember you." She leaned over, placed her head under his chin, and snuggled against his chest. "You seem so nice and warm, lovable and sexy."

"Yep, that's me alright." he laughed lightly. "I'm lovable."

They sat there together, both thinking in their own little worlds. Ryan wondered if he could say anything else to keep her there and not leave him. Taylor wondered if she could stay; if it would be fair to either of them if she did. Over the intercom, the next bus to Los Angeles was called.

"There sure are a lot of buses to L.A.." Ryan said.

"Lots of people who need to get away. To get lost."

"You're already lost, Taylor. You don't have to go away for that." he gently teased. She playfully slapped him on the arm and then settled back under his chin. "I suppose you're right." She took one last second to close her eyes and remember the moment. Ryan's smell, his touch, the feeling of him. It would have to last her until she saw him again. As painful as it was, she'd made her decision.

"Ryan," she said as she sat up. She pulled their hands to her lap and placed her free hand on top of his. She had to be strong for this. By her actions, he knew what she was going to say before she said it. "I don't want to leave."

_Then don't!_ he thought, but didn't say it. He just listened.

"I feel like I have to, though. I have to find myself, to remember myself before I can give myself to you. Does that make sense? If I tried right now, all you would get was an empty vase, a void black hole. You deserve more than that."

_I don't deserve anything, _he thought. He felt like his insides were knots. If only he'd protected her better in the earthquake......

Sensing him mentally kicking himself for something, she raised her free hand and gently caressed his cheek. "Please understand." A tear spilled down her own cheek. Ryan carefully wiped it away. It killed him to see a woman cry, especially a woman he was deeply in love with. "Please, Ryan. Don't make this harder than it already is. Just let me go."

He wanted to make her stay. He was almost sure she would if he asked. As much as he wanted to, he knew it wasn't fair to her. She was hurting. She was crying, and his inability to let her go was the main cause.

Frustrated, he raked his fingers through his blond hair which was still in disarray from his hospital bed. He knew he couldn't ask her to stay so instead he found a loose piece of magazine and a pen. After he wrote on it, he handed it to her. "You have to promise to call me everyday so I know you are OK." She looked at the paper and saw his cell number on it.

She smiled at the gesture. "Once a week."

"Every other day."

"Deal." she shook his hand to seal the deal, but both their hands lingered. She couldn't make hers move. Why did she have to leave?

The last call for her bus sounded through the station. "I'd better go. I already missed one bus today waiting for you to get here."

His lips curved up slightly. "Sorry about that. I had a back injury, scary nurse, evil mother, cops, and the driving of Sandy Cohen keeping me away."

"And yet you made it."

"And yet I made it-- just in time to say good-bye."

"It means a lot, you know? You being here."

He reached in his pocket and handed her the money Sandy had given him. "I can't take this." she protested.

Not taking no for an answer he laid it in her hand and closed it. "Call me when you get there."

Accepting his gift, she nodded leaned over and kissed his cheek. "Good-bye Ryan Atwood."

"See ya later, Townsend."

When she was all the way to the door, he called to her. There was something else he had to tell her before it was too late. "I love you, Taylor."

She stopped, her hand lingered on the door. Her eyes met his. "I want to love you too, Ryan. Just give me some time." She gave a little wave which he mirrored, and then she opened the door and was gone.

Ryan was left alone in the bus station. He placed his hands in his pockets, kept his eyes on the door in case she came back, and started thinking about ways he was going to cope if she didn't. She was alive. She would call. And she would be back. Those were the things he had to hold-on to.

Sandy came back in and led his son out toward the car. They both stopped to watch Taylor's bus pull out and disappear down the street just as the sun was rising. "It'll be ok. You'll see." Sandy told him.

"Yeah, right." Ryan answered, not the least bit sarcastic. However, he didn't believe Sandy. Nothing would be alright until Taylor was back.

_She's alive. _He reminded himself.

_She'll call._

_She'll be back._

"She'll be back." Ryan said to himself under his breath, not quite sure if he really believed it.

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	12. The New Man

A/N: Please ignore the typos and incorrect usages of the** '** in this chapter. It's been a bear to type and lots of extra stress at work this week. Anyway, I hope you like it. This is for Lori who I didn't forget. I DID have this typed Wednesday. I had some problems getting it to my beta, then I had to change some things. I guess at some point you just have to publish them, flaws and all... Fingers crossed...................

Disclaimer: I don't own these people... not that they are really people... but if they were I wouldn't own them.

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**Chapter 12: The New Man**

Just like she promised, Taylor called every other day. Her first call came when she first arrived at the Days Inn and settled. Since she wasn't exactly sure how long she would be in LA, it seemed the most reasonable to just stay in a hotel for the time being. Until she got her bearings, or until her memory miraculously came back and she could go home.... not that the last scenario seemed very likely.

Her calls started out short, like two acquaintances trying to find things to say. Then one night about two weeks into her exile, she woke Ryan up at two a.m. She was so excited that she couldn't wait until the appointed day - or even daylight- to tell him. He was groggy when he first answered the phone, but quickly sobered up upon hearing her infectious excitement.

She had remembered something.

Prom- at least she thought it was probably prom. She explained to him that she remembered wearing a sexy little red dress, and she thought her date was Korean. She didn't recall much, but did say that she remembered being in a large, dark room surrounded by people. She remembered screaming and Ryan running to her. That was it.

Of course, she had lots of questions...

_"Why was I screaming?"_

_"Where were we?"_

_"What happened to my Korean date?"_

_"Why did you run to me first?"_

_"Were we friends?"_

_"What happened next?"_

He answered the best he could....

_"You were screaming because some one had stolen a lot of money from you."_

_"We were at The Bait Shop. It was a local, I guess, teen club. You rented it out for the after prom party. You were social chair and kinda took the job a little, okay, a lot seriously."_

_"I don't know what happened to your date. I never saw him again. Not even at the Korean restaurant, which was really weird since I always saw him there before."_

_"Why did I run to you first? I'm not sure. You were screaming, and I had to help. Apparently, I have some sort of hero complex."_

_"We weren't exactly friends. You were more friends with Seth and Summer."_

It made Taylor happy to know that at least she _had_ friends even if Ryan hadn't been one of them. After her short stay with her mother she wasn't entirely sure.

The last question was one Ryan didn't want to answer. Beating up Volchok wasn't one of his proudest nights, and it lead to one of the worst moments of his life. Still, she had the right to know. _"After I left you at the prom, I went to this person's--" _he strained the word out. Truthfully, he could never see Kevin Volchok as a person. Not after what he did. "--_house. It turned out I was right, and he was the one who stole the money. "_

_"So you called the police?"_

_"Oh no. That would have been smart." _he said more bitterly than he meant. He had no idea the wounds were so fresh to him. _"No, I 'persuaded' him to return the money. And he did."_

_"Just like that?"_

_"Well no. He ended up in the emergency room."_

_"Wow, you really wanted that money back."_

_"It wasn't the money." _His tone, flat and quick, told Taylor that there was much more to the story than he was telling and that he wasn't going to tell her then. _"It had nothing to do with you."_ he added when he noticed her quietness. He didn't want her to think he was like her mother and was keeping her life from her.

After that call, she started calling daily and talked hours on end. Mainly she talked. He listened. It was an arrangement they both liked. A few weeks into her stay, Ryan started sending her money despite her protests to stop. To make him stop (and to pay him back), she got a job at a very small antique dealership which specialized in very rare pieces. If they didn't have it, they could find it. Taylor loved her job, even the irony of it. Lots of customers would come in wanting to know the history of a certain piece and it was Taylor's job to tell it. She learned quickly and could tell anyone everything they wanted to know. Her own history, unfortunately, was still a jumbled, cloudy mess.

It was at her job where she met the man who would soon become her landlord. She had been working at the register (cleaning, straightening, reading ads for apartments) when this man approached her. He was nice looking with model features and floppy blond hair. It reminded her of an old picture Ryan had recently sent her of him when he had first come to Newport. His eyes, however, were the first part of his anatomy to catch her attention. They sparkled when they noticed her like they were surprised at first, then elated for some reason. His eyes held some mystery, some recognition. If she had been back in Newport, she would have sworn this person was someone she had known and just forgotten. But in LA, it was near impossible.

The man graciously allowed her to rent out his guest house which was to the back and right of his large three story bachelor pad, as he called it. The guest house was beautiful. It held two bedrooms (one a deep, royal blue. The other a warm mocha). The ten foot ceilings gave her a much needed sense of space with sky lights stretching across the living room. The kitchen was modern. All the appliances in the entire house were new. Taylor knew he wasn't getting a fair deal. He could ask so much more for rent, but he insisted that just her smile was enough to make up the difference.

A few days after moving into the guest house, Taylor called Ryan at their appointed time, right around 9:30 p.m. He was already in bed, wife beater and sweats in check. His room was on the second floor of the Roberts/Cooper estate. It was a deep blue with black accents and a huge flat screen. "Hey, Taylor." his face lit up as it always did when she called. "What's up?"

"Hi Ryan." she said sweetly, as she strutted across her new apartment in her thigh-high, silky red gown. She wasn't sure how she was going to do this. "Uh Ryan, I have something to tell you."

He didn't like the edginess in her voice. His previously bright smile, the smile Taylor's voice always put there, began to fade. This wasn't going to be good. "What is it?"

She paused dramatically, sitting down next to him as he slept on the couch. "Ryan- I've met someone."

Breath escaped his lungs so fast he thought he would suffocate. He fell back against the pillows for support. He had known that her finding herself another boyfriend was always a possibility. Hell, they hadn't really even decided to be exclusive since she left for LA. He thought it was implied, but maybe not. What didn't make sense about it all was how well they had been getting along lately-- or so he thought. Maybe it had just been wishful thinking? Maybe some deep place in his mind thought that if he could convince himself that she was ok… that she still loved him... then he wouldn't have to deal with the guilt of not protecting her in the earthquake?

A bitter taste swirled around his mouth. She'd probably fallen for some Hollywood type. The type that only wanted you for sex then never called again. No, someone probably had given her a pack of gum and she saw that act of kindness as love. Or, maybe she'd gone gay. It wouldn't be the first ex he'd ever had to change teams. Or, hell, with his luck, he figured it was probably Oliver.

"Ryan?" Taylor spoke when he didn't. "Are you still there?"

He grunted. His throat was dry and, frankly, he didn't feel the need to speak to her right then.

"Ryan... just say something."

"So. You _met_ someone." He tried to hold inside the distance he felt. What good would it do?

"Uh-huh. He's so cute and smart..."

**I'll kill him**, he thought passively.

"And has long hair...."

Ryan's hand instinctively went up touch his short cut and moaned. He would have grown it back out to his long-banged glory days if he'd known that was what she preferred.

".. And the cutest little nose."

_**Well, I'm done for it then**__, _he sighed while reaching for his rather large honker.

"He's hairy and soft and cuddly. Cute."

"Yeah, we covered the cute."

She giggled. "Oh Jack-- stop licking me."

"That's it." he said under his breath. It was one thing for her to basically dump him, but it was another for her to have him there and to rub it his face.

"Wait! Ryan, wait!"

"What?" he huffed. His hand all ready to close the phone. "Go get licked by your new boy toy."

The sounds of her laughing, not a mean laugh, but an amused one, made him take a second before he shut the phone. He held it back up to his ear in enough time to hear, "Who would have thought? Ryan Atwood: Jealous of a poor little puppy dog."

"Puppy?" When it hit him that she'd been playing him, he simultaneously wanted to punch a wall, spank Taylor (which could fun), or kiss with one of those kisses that make you feel like you are going to faint when it's over. He began to laugh along with her and unclenched his fist. "God. You're evil, Taylor."

"Aren't I?" her voice full of triumph. "Sorry, I couldn't resist. So, you were really jealous, huh?"

"No, I was not. I-uh- was-- um just." He thought this was just the type of situation Taylor, even the old Taylor, loved. Making you squirm. And he was squirming good. Not wanting to stammer around like an idiot anymore, he thought it best to change the subject. "You said his name was Jack?"

"Yeah, and he's some sort of mutt I found on the street. He looked lost and I could relate. We've bonded."

"And your landlord lets you keep him?"

"Yeah, he said that since the dog made me smile, and that was rare, that I could keep him as long as I named the dog after him."

"So, your landlord's name is Jack?" At that moment, Ryan realized that he didn't really know much about her landlord. She'd only lived there a few days. This was the first time he'd ever heard any part of his name. Taylor just usually said 'my landlord' in passing.

"Uh-huh."

"So, what's his last name?"

"Hess."

A frank expletive flew through Ryan's head as he nearly dropped the phone. It had been a while since he'd thought of Jack Hess-- former dean of discipline at Harbor and ex-lover of the previously under-aged Taylor Townsend.

"We met at the antique shop." she went on, not really noticing his hesitation. She was caught up in her story. "Apparently, he's a huge collector. He asked if I was new in LA. I asked if it was that obvious. He laughed and said that it was ok. That he had been there himself. Then he said that if I needed a place to rent, I guess he saw the mounds of apartment ads on the counter in front of me, that he had a guest house."

"You don't say."

"He does something for the school system here, I'm not sure what."

"Uh-huh" Ryan replied, wheels already turning in his head. If the good Dean had sex with a teenage Taylor there was no telling what he'd do now that she wasn't jail bait.

"He's a little... weird though. I mean, the first time he saw me, he called me Taylor. I thought, 'Oh heck, someone else knows me and I'm clueless', but he said that he saw it on my name tag. I can be so paranoid at times. But still-- he looks at me sometimes like he knows me. I didn't ask him about it because, I mean really, who wants their only friend in LA to think they 'aren't there', know what I mean?"

"Yeah," he answered, his mind racing. "I'm coming to LA."

"What? Ryan, now?" she flushed, taken aback by his sudden announcement. "Why? Because of Mr. Hess? There is nothing between us. I was just kidding you before with the puppy thing."

The way she said 'Mr. Hess' made his skin crawl and he tried not to picture her calling him that in bed during some sort of not natural sex game. Seth had told him once that Taylor said the dean had schooled her on the Kama Sutra. "No." he said, his voice tight. "No, not just that. I've wanted to come see you for a few weeks now. Tomorrow is Saturday. Is that too soon? Maybe I could drive up? Stay the weekend?"

"Um." She didn't know what to say."Ok, sure, I guess. That would be--- good."

"Good." he mirrored her.

Taylor gave him the directions. They talked a few minutes after that, but neither was really involved in the conversation so they decided to hang up and see each other the next day.

Frustrated, Ryan shut his phone and placed it back on the bedside table. The clock said 10:26 pm. No way he could sleep now. He rolled out of bed and began packing. He would leave at sun up, giving him enough time to get there early, but not early enough where he looked like a crazy stalker. He couldn't believe that out of the millions of people in Los Angeles Jack Hess just 'happened' to run across Taylor and just 'happened' to know she needed a place to stay. It wasn't sitting right with him. Ryan planned on talking with ole Jack, catch up as it were, let him know that if he tried anything with Taylor, the punch at the Kick-off carnival not even two years before would look like a love tap.


	13. The Dean

_A/N: I'm SO sorry this took so long to update. I tried and tried to write it, but nothing would come out. I hope you like it. _

_Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters... or Dancing with the Stars._

_A/N part 2: This chapter hasn't been beta'd. All mistakes are mine. Be gentle._

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Chapter 12: The Dean

_She stood alone. _

_Center stage_

_A crowd of faces she didn't recognize surrounded her._

_She was in a gymnasium. That fact, she knew, she could be certain. The faces, mean and angry, belonged to bodies sitting on bleachers. If looks could kill, she knew she was a goner. Proudly housed on the wall behind the mob was painted an emblem which read Harbor School._

_The unknown faces began to fade and shift- blend and contort- into the background. _

_She couldn't look at the carousal of blurred colors, angry countenances. Instead, she looked below her and noticed that a podium stood not three inches in front of where she was standing. On it, she saw a piece of paper with undecipherable words scribbled. _

_The faces regained shape again. One look at them and she almost wished they hadn't. _

_Angry faces. _

_Malicious faces_

_Uncaring faces._

_All looking, concentrating, mocking, snarling, laughing, mocking...._

_.... at her._

_She felt her mouth open and heard the words "Welcome to the Senior Lock-in." escape her dry, quivering lips._

_Again, the nameless faces glared at her, and she couldn't figure out why. Why they were so angry? _

_Automatically, her hand slid down through her hair. _

_Slick. Perfect._

_Her skirt..._

_Down and wrinkle free._

_Her shirt...._

_Light pale blue, all buttons buttoned. Nothing to stare at. Light blue, she remembered, was one of the colors that looked best on her. The other was red._

_String of pearls... delicately laid around her slim neck. Perfect._

_Nothing for these people to hate. Nothing for them to not like. No reason for their ugly glares._

_She tried to say something else.... To read from the page on the podium, but she couldn't. The letters were scribbled... didn't make sense. "Spit it out Traylortrash." A husky male voice called out from the crowd._

_"Heard the dean prefer she swallow, actually." A female voice countered. Laughter followed._

_"Open your mouth, Taylor!" _

_"It's not like she doesn't know how to use it."_

_Girls snickered. Boys laughed. The sounds, loud and buzzing, rang through her ears like a swarm of angry hornets. The viciousness made her stomach churn. Her chest tightened as she looked for somewhere- anywhere- to escape. The first exit was blocked by her mother. Veronica's eyes were steely shards and a smirk rose on her hard lips. "Taylor, I told you. Forcing people to spend time with you would backfire. No wonder you have no friends. What did I ever do to deserve a disappointment of a daughter as you? Tell me that." Her arms crossed, her eyes rolled, and her words cut through Taylor's heart. _

_"That's not true, Mom. I have friends." she shouted. The assembly erupted in uproarious laughter. _

_"Who? The Dean?" a boy called. She cut her eyes to where the voice emitted, but saw no one but Jack, her landlord, standing next to the other exit. He was the only one not laughing. He looked concerned for her. Before she could move, to reach out to him, he was gone. Vanished like a ghost._

_She had to make the laughter stop. She had to make them see. "Ryan. Ryan Atwood is my friend." she answered, shoulders back, head held as high as she could muster. The laughter didn't die. In fact it rose. "Why are you doing this!?!?" she asked. Even though the words escaped her lips in a whisper, it echoed through the room like a breaking ocean wave._

_"Why do you think?" A familiar voice called. Through the blur of faces, one began coming into focus._

_Ryan._

_She felt herself relax a bit at the familiarity. He wasn't angry like her mother. He wasn't gone like Jack. He seemed calm. He would help her. He'd make them see that she wasn't an awful, terrible person. At least she didn't think she was. He'd protect her._

_He was smiling. Not like the rest of the crowd. His expression was warm, not exactly matching the tone in which his words were spoken. She knew she probably shouldn't trust him, didn't even really know him. But she did. She wanted too. "Ryan, what's going on?"_

_He stood and slowly began walking from the bleachers toward her, his hands casually behind his back. "Everyone's just mad, Taylor. They don't see you like I do. All they see is the facade."_

_Again, instinctively, she felt her hair, her clothes. He softly laughed, now next to her. "The facade, Taylor, the outside is perfect. But the inside--" He moved his hands from behind his back. Looking down she saw the back of an antique silver and very pretty mirror. "The inside is what I see. What I know to be true--" He turned the glass to her causing her to scream. The reflection was the same horrid, contorted face as her dream. Her hair matted to her head. Her eyes wide and bloodshot. Her mouth housed razor sharp teeth. She smacked the mirror out of his hand, shattering it into a thousand pieces._

_When she looked back at him, he was no longer smiling. His features had turned hard and cold. "That's the monster inside, Taylor. These people here hate you because of the act you put on. I hate you for the monster inside. Amnesia or not... It's still there. Don't you wish that I didn't see you so clearly?"_

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Sweat beaded on her forehead as a scream erupted from the room. It took a moment for her to realize that the sound was her own. Shaking, she sat up in her bed, pulled her legs to her chest and began rocking. She wanted to know why she kept having the same dreams about the same monster-- how evil or manipulative she had been before the amnesia-- and why she couldn't just let it go?

She was so lost in her thoughts that she didn't stop to wonder where she had woken up, or notice that she wasn't alone.

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"Where do you think you're going?"

Ryan stopped packing long enough to notice who it was then returned to his job. He knew how it looked: Him. Packing in the middle of the night. The urge to grab _the hoodie_ was hard to resist even for him.

He knew what it looked like, but it didn't mean that was what was happening.

"Dude, she's only been gone, like, a few weeks. Give it time." His companion protested, scanning the room with interest and even envy. For a brief second, envy won out and he went into an inward place of covetness. Ever since the entire Cohen family had been exiled to the Robert's home after the earthquake, Seth had been staying in the regrettably pink room, watching his manhood (along with his general hygiene) slip away. As it was, he and Summer were well on their way to becoming an old married couple before they were twenty-- or even married.

But Ryan... he had the manly blue room previously occupied by Neil Roberts, now renown Seattle doctor.

For Ryan's part, he took the brief span of Seth's daydreaming to enjoy some quiet reflection. It didn't last long however. Snapping back into reality, Seth casually entered the room, nearing the bed where Ryan was busy throwing clothes in his old black duffel. "You're gonna hurt yourself again, you know."

"I'm fine." Ryan huffed for the millionth time. He was tired of telling people that. He wished they would believe him, even if it was a total lie. His back hurt less, but emotionally not so much. He missed Taylor. He never thought those three words would apply to him. "You were there, Seth. You heard the doctor. He said no more restrictions. I'm fine." Million and _one_

"Yeah, _fine_. but not running away fine."

He cut his eyes to his increasingly annoying brother. "I'm not running away, Seth."

"Oh yeah, and I'm not a virgin." he answered incredulously.

Ignoring that, Ryan went back to packing.

"Look," Seth went on, never deterred by Ryan's lack of communication skills. "This is classic Ryan Atwood. You couldn't protect the girl. The girl got hurt. The girl left. You, being you, blame yourself because of course, _you_ cause the earthquake and _you_ caused the bookshelf to fall... woe is you, blah blah. So you, being as we already established _Ryan Atwood_, you run. You flee. You give up. You leave. You pack and go away. You've done it for years. Why should this be any different?"

Throwing his last shirt in the bag, Ryan straightened his stance and faced his brother head on. "Are you finished now?"

"Let me think.." Seth did some fancy counting miming on one hand. "No, I'm not done as a matter of fact. You can't leave because you have a family who loves you."

"I'm not leaving."

His words weren't heard. "And Mom. What would Mom think? With the baby coming?"

"I'm not leaving."

"You always come back, that's a given, but the man hours we, and by we I mean me, have to put in to _get _you back. I just can't do it again, Ryan. I can't."

"I'm sorry this is so hard for you." he answered with sarcasm. "But I'm not leaving."

Seth raised his brows and pointed to the bag.

"I'm going to LA to _see_ Taylor."

"And she knows this?" Seth asked suspiciously.

Ryan's answer was an annoyed glare.

"Well.... ok then. That changes things."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence though buddy."

"Anytime, look... let me go with you."

"No." he answered without having to think. Seth beat him to the door and blocked the exit.

"What if you hurt yourself again?"

"They have blood banks, Seth." He moved to the left as did his counterpart.

"Ok, what if you get in trouble and need back-up?"

Ryan's raised eyebrow meant, _Dude, no offense, but you wouldn't be any help._

"Point taken." Seth responded, again blocking Ryan's move this time to the right. It was beginning to look like an awkward tango on _Dancing with the Stars_.

The blond sighed heavily while clinching his jaw tightly. He knew Seth was just trying to look out for him and not be the pain in his ass that he was right at that minute. He concentrated on deep cleansing breaths, and on a way to get around Seth.

"Just let me go with you." Seth begged.

"No."

"Please."

"No."

"Please."

"I can make you move." Ryan warned.

"But you won't." Seth countered. "You love me too much."

Ryan couldn't fight the smile crossing his lips. He also couldn't remember the last time he won a fight with Seth. Time for a new tactic.... "What about the _'Mrs.'?"_

"You just let me handle her. I'm the man in this relationship."

At that moment, Ryan had to cough and to Seth it sounded incredibly like a word that rhymed with _Fullsplit._

"I am the man..."

"Yeah, and she has the two orbs that make you such securely tucked away in a little box in your little pink room. Now, are you coming with me or are we going to continue talking about your manhood?"

Seth paused. "You mean I can go?"

Ryan didn't see the sparkle in Seth's eyes as a good thing. "You're staying in a hotel room." He amended. No sense in trying to stop the inevitable. Seth would bug him until he let him go anyway.

Seth did have the foresight to fight the urge to do the happy snoopy dance instead raising his arms as if in victory. "Wait, where are you staying?"

"Taylor's... I think. Probably." In fact, Ryan hadn't even thought about where he'd stay, or if Taylor would even want him there.

Seth slapped his brother on the back. "Awesome plan, buddy."

"It's a long story."

"So tell me on the way. Come on, help me pack and, oh by the way, tell Summer for me." he added the last part under his breath.

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"Taylor, calm down. It's just me. It's Jack. I heard you screaming and came to check on you."

Her mind wouldn't register. She didn't hear herself screaming any more. But she couldn't place where she was... when she was....who she was... who 'Jack' was...?

Slowly, as her eyes adjusted to the faint lamp light in the room, things began coming back. The where was Los Angeles. The when-- well she definitely wasn't in high school any more. The who-- Taylor Townsend, runaway amnesiac. The Jack-- Jack Hess-- her only friend in LA.

"Jack." she said, frantically combing her fingers through her tousled hair. She didn't want him to see her this way.... not dressed appropriately... Hair not perfect.

"You look beautiful." he smiled, answering her unasked question. She blushed slightly, wondering how he could read her thoughts. Was she that obvious? "I just had a bad dream. That's all. You can leave now." She wanted him to leave. She wanted to be alone and just curl up and possibly cry. If he had heard her from the main house, then she must have been screaming really loud... and from a damn dream. A stupid dream that didn't make any sense.

And to top it off... she was in her kitty cat pajamas... kill. her. now.

Instead of turning and running like any sane man would, or so Taylor thought, Jack stepped closer to her bed. A somewhat comforting smile on his lips. "Tell me about it."

_About what?_ she thought to herself before it hit her what he was talking about. Her mind was too frazzled to focus. "It's nothing. It was stupid."

"Didn't sound stupid." he replied, sitting down on the edge of foot of her bed. For his part, he didn't mind the kitty cat pajamas. In fact, the black tank went well with the deep, rich, purple comforter covering most of her body. He knew keeping his hands to himself would be a problem, but he also knew Taylor didn't need a lover right now.. Now, she needed a friend. "Please. I promise I won't laugh."

"Well--" she wasn't going to tell him everything. No need for this stranger-- this handsome stranger with the piercing blue eyes and amazing smile- to know that she was crazy. Like normal, however, her mouth began going before her brain could stop it. She had already told him half of her nightmare before she knew it, and so she finished the rest out of obligation.

He sat and listened, even smiled when she mentioned his name in it. It was a smile that made Taylor stop speaking for a second... a secretive, knowing smile that she didn't really like. There was a familiarity to Jack that she couldn't place. "And that's when I woke up screaming. I'm sorry. I'm not normally like this. I don't scream.. unless it's called for.. and I'm not one of those girly girlies who scream at horror movies. I mean, not even the Ring, or Friday the 13th, or Mommy Dearest... well, maybe Mommy Dearest, but you had to know my mother to know why, but since you don't, it appears that I'm just rambling and that's what I do. I ramble and ramble and ramble until something stops--"

His lips on hers stopped her from talking. She froze. Unable to move. Unable to think. When he pulled back, his eyes were as shocked as she felt. "I'm sorry. I just... It happened. I'm sorry." And he thought he actually was sorry. Not sorry for the kiss, but sorry for breaking his pact with himself that he would be her friend. And sorry for the conversation that he knew would have to come next, but only because it was major, and could backfire if not handled properly.

"No, don't be. It just took me off guard. I mean, your my landlord--"

"And you're new in town--"

"And I don't really know you that well--"

"--And you have amnesia--"

"--And it wouldn't be--- whoa-- What did you just say?"

Jack grinned. This definitely wasn't the way he had planned on doing this, but now that it was in motion, it couldn't be stopped. "I know about the amnesia, Taylor."

She pulled the covers closer to her like all of her clothes had been ripped off. She felt so vulnerable now.. now that she knew that he knew... but how could he know? "How?"

"Because if you didn't, you would have recognized me?"

"And how would I have recognized you?" she paused to think. "I mean, you kissed me, so obviously you were a boyfriend at some time, but you are _way _too old for me, maybe a boyfriend of my mother's in which case," She scooted farther away, "Ewwww.."

He had to laugh. "No, not your mother. I used to work at the school you attended. Harbor. I was a dean there."

"And you're kissing me here?"

"Believe me, that wasn't planned." And it wasn't.... for the most part.

"So you knew me in high school? And you just happened to run into me _here _and thought 'Oh, there's Taylor.. Oh she doesn't recognize me... oh she must have amnesia.. oh I'll invite her to stay in my guest house and then seduce her'" Her ire was beginning to rise. She hated being lied too. It was why she had left Newport in the first place. Now, it seemed that her only friend in LA had been lying to her all these weeks as well. "Get out." she ordered.

"Now, Taylor. It wasn't like that."

"Then what was it like?" He started to answer, but she cut him off. "I don't care. Get out."

He continued to sit facing her, his face grew more amused which made her that much angrier. "Technically, it's my house."

"Technically, I don't give a damn. I signed a lease and until the end of the month it's mine."

"Don't get worked up, Taylor. I didn't tell you that I knew you because I didn't want to upset you."

"Oh, how nice.. how convenient. Lie to the cripple. You, my mom, heck even Ryan probably has..."

The smile on Jack's face faded a bit. "Ryan? Ryan Atwood?"

"Yeah. He's my... well I don't know what he is. Do you know him? And please don't lie to me."

"I knew him. Last I heard he was still hung up on Marissa Cooper."

She sighed automatically, like her body just knew it had to sigh whenever it heard the words _Marissa Cooper_. "He still is.. a little... I think. Doesn't matter. She died last year."

"Car accident. I heard."

"So, Ryan got all protective on the phone last night--"

"Probably when you told him about me--"

Her brows creased. "Yeah, actually. Anyway, he said he was coming to LA tomorrow." she looked at the clock. "Today, technically, I guess."

"Uh-huh." he rubbed the day old stubble on his face. Even though it was 4 in the morning, he had on black slacks and a light blue button up. He had fallen asleep watching TV and at around 12 he'd decided to go and check on Taylor. He'd been standing in her door frame watching her sleep when the nightmare woke her. "How much do you actually remember about Ryan?"

She shrugged, wondering if there was any reason to stay mad at Jack no matter how much she really wanted to be. "About as much as I remember about everything else... not a lot."

"Uh-huh." he said again. His his tone made her curious.

"Why? What?"

Jack reached up and gently tucked a stray piece of hair back behind her ear. She didn't flinch like she had with Ryan. The reaction, or lack there of, surprised and confused her more. "I knew Ryan when he was in high school." Jack said, remembering the speech he had prepared for this exact conversation should it ever arise. "Ryan Atwood, is-- was, a very troubled and violent young man. He stole a car. Been in numerous fights. Got a girl pregnant when he was sixteen. Bottom line, that boy is dangerous. He uses his fists more than his mind. I would stay away from him if I were you."

"Dangerous?" she asked, disbelieving the man she had grown fond of talking to on the phone was the same violent man Jack was describing.

"Very. He burned down a house. Nearly got expelled at least twice. He isn't a boy to be taken lightly. It seems his father, his biological father, was in jail for beating his mother, his brother and him, among other things. Looks like the apple didn't fall far from the tree."

Jack stood and walked to the door. Before he exited, he turned to say one last thing before he left. Something for her to mull over. "Taylor, I know you are mad at me. You have every right to be. But please believe me. As bad as you might think I am for lying, Ryan Atwood is ten times worse. He's the worst kind of person. One that outwardly is a calm, composed, loving man. On the inside, he's cruel and manipulative. He gets what he wants and doesn't care how. He lets his emotions get the best of him." He rubbed his face, remembering back to a bruise that had been left there once before. "Be careful around him, Taylor. He's not at all how he seems. I"ll see you in the morning."

And with that, the seed was planted.

He walked out, a grin growing on his lips. He hoped it had been enough.

After Jack left, Taylor turned off the lamp, but didn't huddle under the covers. Instead, she just sat there. Alone. In the dark. Jack had given her a lot to think about. She wondered how different she and Ryan could be.. if they both had darkness in them... monsters waiting to come out. He would be there in the morning. The thought made her stomach churn. She ran from the bed to the bathroom where her supper escaped in a few heavy heaves. Composing herself, she returned to her room, pulled out her suitcase, and began packing for the second time.


	14. The End

Chapter 14: The End

She was waiting for him when he arrived, suitcases packed beside her, and a little puppy on her lap. He wasn't sure why he was surprised. Was it that she was packed to leave? Or was it that she had actually stayed?

Taylor had phoned him while he and Seth were driving to LA. She'd been short and to the point, which was totally out of character for Ms. Townsend. She told him that she was leaving again and that he shouldn't try to look for her anymore. Ryan had proceeded to lapse into his most word filled conversation to date. What was wrong? Did Hess hurt her? Was she ok? The answers were nothing, no, and not really. Using skills he didn't even know he had, he tried to persuade her to stay and wait for him. When she hung up, he was sure he'd never see her again.

So, when he arrived at the large mansion and ran around the back to the guest house, he had a knot in his throat. When he opened the door and she was there sitting on top of her packed suitcases, it faded.... slightly.

This wasn't the Taylor he knew... and loved. This was a sad Taylor... an unsure Taylor. She smiled when she saw him, but her eyes betrayed her.

He stood in the door frame, hands in his pockets, unsure what to do next. Seth was waiting in the car, probably impatiently, but Ryan didn't let that bother him. In fact, the thought of his brother was the furthest from his mind. "Are you ok?" he asked her again.

Surprising him again, she laughed. "No, I'm not really. I don't know."

Instinctively, Ryan's fists knotted in his pockets. "Did Jack hurt you?" If he had, he'd kill him.

"No, the dog is great. Almost housebroken and gentle."

"I was talking about your landlord."

She grinned. "So was I."

Her response made his own lips curve slightly. Relaxing a little, he walked into the room and held out his hand to her, "Come on, Townsend. Lets get you home."

She shook her head, "Not so fast. I need some answers first."

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When he heard the knocking on his front door, Jack Hess immediately grinned delighte. Ryan Atwood had came for his 'revenge' and he would in turn get his. His plan was set. The cops were on speed dial, and Ryan's first punch would be his last as a free man for the next 2-3 years. Sure it was petty... sure it was silly... sure it wasn't right for a thirty year old man to hold a grudge, but he was. Sue him.

Hess stopped briefly to look in the mirror beside the door and run his fingers through his wavy blond tresses and flash himself his killer smile. It was going to be a beautiful day.

All of his hopes faded, however, when he finally did open the door and saw not his blonde foe, but his dark curly headed 'brother'. Disappointed, but not deflated Hess said, "You fighting his battles for him now?"

"No, just giving you a warning."

Hess scoffed. "A warning? From a nerdy little kid like you?"

"A warning.... from a nerdy little kid like me. You see, this nerdy little _kid _did some research. Turns out, that even if the," he used air quotes, " 'authority figure' doesn't work at a school any more and even _if_ the child is now over 18, if there is proof, said 'authority figure' can get quite some time in jail. Not a very good thing, especially for a person considering a run for a high office."

Hess crossed his arms, his brow furrowed. "You were supposed to delete the picture. In exchange for Ryan getting back into Harbor."

"Oh my father did... on his phone. I didn't. Technicality."

"What do you want?"

Seth smirked. "I want to come in."

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Ryan sat next to Taylor on a pink suitcase because it was the closest to her, not because he wanted to sit on a pink suitcase. "You want answers. What kind of answers?"

Taylor looked to him, square in his blue eyes. "Are you a violent man?"

His jaw clinched and he looked down at his hands. It was what he suspected. Hess had told her about him. "Look, whatever Hess told you, it's not the whole--"

She put her fingers to his lips to hush him. It was just to make him be quiet, but it instead caused a shock of electricity to flow to her. Her eyes darted to his. She found them a darker shade of blue, his pupils dialated He felt it too. Quickly, she took her fingers from his lips and placed them back on her lap. She had to get through this conversation with Ryan or she'd have doubts. Doubts would never do. "Jack told me some things, yes. And I wanted to run away not because of those things... exactly... but because I can't remember things... and because it's so hard to trust people."

Ryan's fingers gently slid under Taylor's chin, guiding it to face him. "Listen to me, Taylor. I want you to know that you can trust me. You can. No matter what, you can trust me."

She nodded, but moved her chin from his soft touch. "Are you a violent man?" she asked again.

"I can be, yes." he admitted. "I can be violent to anyone who hurts someone I love. I have impulses that I... I don't even understand. I'm working on them, and I feel I've gotten better since I moved in with the Cohen's. I would never hurt you though, Taylor. I've never hit a woman." he whispered. "I'll never be like my father."

She took a minute to digest his answer then asked. "Did you get a girl pregnant?"

He had to laugh. Hess had told her the whole Atwood saga, or probably _his_ version of it. "I thought I did, but turns out, it wasn't mine. I was going to take care of her though... if she wanted me too."

"But she didn't?"

"No." he answered simply. There was nothing more to tell to that story.

"And Marissa?"

"What about Marissa?"

"You loved her."

He began playing with his fingers. The thought of Marissa, as it always did now, made his heart hurt. It was still painful. "Yes." his voice broke with that one simple word.

"You still love her." it wasn't a question.

He shook his head. "No. I feel guilt, yeah. Guilt that she died... that I couldn't stop it. But I don't still love her.. not in that way. I love _you_." Once the words were out there, he couldn't take them back. He hadn't meant to say it. Had no intention of coming there and saying it. One: Taylor didn't even remember him and Two: they had been through so much that he didn't want to pressure her. He knew, now that those words were out, he'd taken a big gamble. With the Atwood luck, it probably wouldn't pan out in his favor.

She nodded and placed a strand of her auburn hair behind her ear. Finally, she looked to him and smiled. Her hand raised to his forehead and tenderly moved a strand of his back into place. Despite whatever her head kept yelling at her, her heart told her something else. It told her she could trust him... that she wanted to trust him. And that she loved him too. It didn't make any sense, but she knew she loved him. "You know the worst thing about amnesia?"

He shook his head. "The worst thing is that I can't remember what you look like without your clothes on." she smiled devilishly.

Ryan wasn't sure she heard her correctly at first, but when her hands fell to his shirt and began unbuttoning the blue buttons, he thought he had a pretty good idea what it was. "So we're ok?"

She gave him the brightest smile she had since the earthquake. "Perfect... well, as perfect as an amnesiac and a ex-con can be." she leaned over and playfully bit his lower lip. "I'm not an ex-con." he mumbled. "Really? You'll have to explain that to me sometime." "Uh-huh." he agreed, allowing her lips to cover his and her taste to radiate through him. It had been a long time.

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_A/N: This chapter is unbeta'd since I wanted to get it out. I know it's been a while. Also, there will be an epilogue after this. Hope you enjoyed. :)_


	15. The Wrapup

_A/N: I want to thank everyone for their reviews :) This is only the second story that I've had over 100 reviews :) I love this story and am sad that it's over, but I couldn't think of where else to take it. This epilogue is a little... well, weird lOL. It's a conversation between Seth and Ryan because they didn't get to have a whole lot of interaction in the story... and they are so much fun to write. _

_Disclaimer: I don't own the OC or anything other tv show in this chapter. You'll be glad of that LOL. __xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx_

Chapter 15: The Wrap-up

Three days later, Taylor was back living at the Roberts, Cooper, Cohen house. She was back in her old room, but with Ryan as her new roommate. Things were going great for them, both physically and relationship wise. She hadn't gotten many of her memories back, but she wasn't dwelling on that any more. Now was the time to think about college and her future... whatever that might bring. She was in a good place. She wondered if maybe amnesia had been the best thing that could have happened to her. No past equaled no regrets after all.

It was about midnight, when Ryan lightly kissed his sleeping beauty, got up from their bed, and went downstairs. When he and Taylor first got home, all he thought about was her... being with her... making her feel comfortable. He hadn't really thought about Hess, or even the coded messages Seth kept giving him. It had finally caught up with him.

Ryan found Seth sprawled out in the living room on the couch. His feet propped up on the coffee table. He was wearing his Naruto pjs and blue t-shirt. His hair looked like a bird nest. Ryan silently sat beside him, wearing only black boxers and a 'wifebeater'.

"Couldn't sleep?"

"No. You?"

"No...... So what happened?"

"Well, the blond guy ended up blind in an explosion and...."

"You're watching _The Mentalist_?" Ryan scoffed.

"I'm expanding my horizons. Besides, my _Bleach _didn't tape because God is mad at me, and Summer really likes this show.... I think it's more for blond dude than for the story lines."

"You don't say."

"I do say.. and as it happens, I find myself believing that I'm like the Mentalist guy."

Ryan raised an eyebrow suspiciously. "How so?"

"Well, he can manipulate people and situations into what he wants and, apparently, so can I."

"Uh." he grunted. It was too late at night for Seth's riddles.

"Yeah, it's amazing. Not three days ago, I used my persuasive power to 'chat' with the former Dean Hess"

"Yeah... and how did that go?" Ryan knew that Seth had talked to Hess, but he hadn't expounded as to what was discussed. After he and Taylor had 'gotten back together', she'd made him promise not to go after Jack. He was her friend, or at least a so called friend, after all... and she didn't trust Ryan not to punch him. It was a good call on her part. To keep temptation at bay, Ryan had avoided any interaction with Jack. He hadn't even seen him. It was a bit anti-climatic for him, but it made Taylor happy... which in turn made him happy.

"It went great. In fact..." Seth leaned over to the cend table and got his wallet. He opened it and handed Ryan a folded piece of paper. When Ryan saw what it was, he couldn't believe it. "You blackmailed him?"

"I prefer to think of it as being paid for my silence."

"That's the definition of blackmail, Seth."

"Yeah, whatever Webster. Anyway, I promised I'd erase the picture of he and Taylor from my phone in exchange for this large sum of money."

"And did you?"

"Yeap... " he paused to give the moment more drama. "Check your phone." Ryan did and saw he had a picture message. "You didn't?"

"I did. No one ever said Hess was a bright man."

Ryan smiled at his brother. No, he didn't like having a picture of Hess and Taylor on his phone. And No, he never thought Seth would resort to blackmail, but heck, at least he hadn't gone to jail for punching him... All in all, it had went well. Ryan settled back on the couch with Seth and grabbed a handful of popcorn. "_The Mentalist_, huh. You say Summer has a thing for the blond guy?"

"Yeah."

"Not that dark-headed guy." Ryan pointed to the large 6'3" inch man on the screen.

Seth began slowly chewing his popcorn, now thinking not so happy thoughts. "No."

"Hum... interesting." Another handful of popcorn. "I kinda look like that blond guy."

"Yes you do, Ryan. Yes you do."

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The End.

_A/N Part II: Yes i know the show ended before the Mentalist started. I couldn't help myself. I heart both shows. I'd love for Ryan Atwood to be Patrick Jane's illegitimate love child LOL._


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